Old Gods
by miss lizz
Summary: The epilogue is finished! Scarab gets some new partners. Please read and review. JN
1. revival

Gods of War

Chapter 1

Author: Miss Lizz

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Mummies Alive! However, the Gods of War are mine. Aren't you just so proud!

Author's note: This is the first fic about MA! I have posted so be gentle. Some scenes contain extreme violence and severe blood loss so viewer discretion is advised. Constructive criticism is appreciated.

"That's it! Heka, I've done it!" Scarab let out a peal of laughter and danced around the room in glee.

"What? Lost your mind?"

With a lightning fast motion, Scarab grabbed Heka but, strangely, did not look angry. He smiled instead, "Since I'm in such a good mood, I'll forget you said that. I have found the key to destroying the mummies and with them gone there'll be nothing in my way to immortality."

"Do tell?"

"I'm going to bring back the 'Gods of War.'"

Heka arched her equivalent of an eyebrow, "I thought you tried Set and failed miserably."

"No, you ignorant serpent, not _the_ god of war, the 'Gods of War.' They were the greatest team of warriors in all Egypt. With them on my side, I can't lose!"

Heka only half-listened after that bit; she had heard his little tirades about not being able to lose this or that one. She no longer cared; she just made the expected grunts and noises when he paused for breath. It was truly pathetic sometimes; he was really quite a brilliant man if he focused on something other than the mummies and that annoying kid. Surely there was some other way to gain immortality than stealing that brat's soul. Besides, being an immortal was so boring after a while. Though in truth there was very little that was boring now that she was servant to Scarab; her first master, her creator, was an old, tedious coot in comparison. Still, she might as well play along; it could be entertaining at the very least.

"How are you going to get them here, Boss?"

He just smiled in the way that made her blood run cold. She was beginning to hate this plan already.

She growled deep in her throat like a leopard and clenched balled fists at her sides. He still barely trusted her it seems. Sometimes she hated him, like when he won the arguments and when he yelled at her and made her feel miserable and weak and stupid; Rath did a fine enough job of that, no one else needed to add to it.

But, she still loved the stubborn hunter, no matter what he did or how his words were construed. She hated how she was too big a coward to tell him how he made her feel; how she loved the way his blue eyes sparkled when he smiled. She could not, now or ever. He was married, for Bastet's sake, it was wrong to have these feelings for a married man. She loathed these feelings but she yearned for them just the same.

Why did she fall in love with him? It hurt. It was wrong. She had no right. She had not deserved to fall in love but she had and it tore her up inside. It was wrong. It was impossible for him to ever feel the same. It always will be. How could he ever feel anything for someone like her? She lied to him about her entire life when he told her everything about his.

Armon wandered into the garage then, "Nef, are you okay?" He had missed the recent argument but saw its aftermath and apparently guessed what happened, "You had another fight with Jakal."

"What makes you say that?" she replied bitterly, secretly appalled that she was so transparent, "I need some air." She ran for the jetcycle before he could say anything more and accelerated out of the sphinx so fast a black streak of burned rubber was left behind.

"Of all the reckless…" Rath suddenly appeared and scowled at the black marks, "She's 3500 years old, one would think she could show some amount of maturity. When she comes back, I'll see to it that she cleans up after herself."

The larger, one-armed mummy hid a glare and pretended to act dumb of the whole incident. He shrugged at the thin scribe and went back to the main chamber to watch the sacred box.

Nefertina had not gone far from the others in the off chance they might need her.

_Off chance? Yeah, right, more like fat_ _chance_. They never needed her. They probably never would. The jetcycle took her to the top of the Golden Gate Bridge, and she sat and watched the twinkling lights of the city. Pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping thin, muscular arms round them, she faced the wind and let it billow her hair out behind her, eyes closing tightly in an attempt to halt her threatening tears.

_Will he ever trust me again? I'm still the same person they simply know my real gender. Do I even deserve something like trust? _

_I doubt it. That would be like me actually deserving love. It's not gonna happen. I lied to them, they'll never look past that. I don't deserve their trust; I've already betrayed it once. There's no sense in doing so again. I just wish…_

_No. There's no sense in wishing for something that will never happen. I just wish they would trust me, even a little. A compliment or two wouldn't hurt either. They never have anything nice to say to me, especially Rath. Sexist pigs. I love them like brothers and more._

_When everyone thought I was a boy, he trusted me like no other. Now… he barely seems to tolerate me at all let alone trust me_, her throat constricted with tears that could never be shed. _What do I have to do? How can I make him trust me again? Will he ever trust me again? I don't know what to do…Bastet, help me. I'm so alone. I'm so lonely. Why can't they trust me? Why can't they treat me like a friend? Why can't he?_

_Someday, I'll make him see I can be trusted as I am… I swear. Someday…_

A faint glow caught her eye below; someone was either coming from or going into the Western Gate. The only one who could want anything from it or know anything about it was Scarab. She peered over the edge of the turret she sat on and could barely make out a barge far below. What was going on now?

Scarab stood on the deck of his barge with Heka firmly in his wizened grip. He raised his arms high and wide, the purple cloak he wore surging with a heavy, damp wind that foretold rain, and began the intonation, "Wise spirits, O mighty Osiris, I humbly call upon the four great warriors, the dreaded champions of discord, the destroyers of their enemies. I call upon their aid. I call upon the Gods of War, whose names are: Morankh… Khalset… Zarg… Ikari. O great lord of the dead, bring them forth so that they serve only me. I beseech you! Gods of War, COME!"

There was no clichéd bolt of lightning, no sound, only a diffused white light and the faint outline of the great doorposts to the underworld. Four shapes that materialized into solid figures strode forward and stopped before the old sorcerer. As bronze of body and canny of mind as in life they gained concrete form as the light from the Western Gate faded to the normal darkness of night behind them. The warriors stood of imposing height for their time in front of Scarab and Heka.

They were Morankh, the swordsman, strong in both mind and body. The burly Khalset, whose only weaponry were his incredible strength, brutal temper, and caustic tongue. There was young Zarg, the battle-axe wielder, the jaunty and lean braggart. And Ikari, the staff wielding elder of the team, was a thin and sinewy sorcerer and a very wise man in his own right. To call them bewildered to be back among the living would an understatement of the truth more than anything. Still, there were protocols for them in the face of higher authority.

"What is it you want, Lord?" Black haired Ikari asked in a light baritone.

"I am the Vizier and I require your services in small venture," Scarab began, "Some… people are causing me problems, mummies to be precise and―"

"Mummies? A bunch of walking corpses is causing you problems? Hah," the big fighter of the group smirked, and was elbowed in the ribs by Morankh, the only one close to Khalset's size. He scowled darkly.

"As I was saying, these mummies gather around a small boy I am in need of. I was wondering if perhaps you could get rid of them for me and possibly bring me the boy also."

Out of age-old habit to higher authority they obeyed without question, none that this royal man knew about at least. It was ingrained in them to follow the dictates of those above them in station. Be that as it may, the older of the warriors, Ikari and Morankh, wondered why this man of obvious power needed a small boy. And who were the mummies he spoke of? How could they possibly be causing him problems? The dead were not known to just get up and go after someone unless under the control of a sorcerer or in protection of a person or thing. Was this boy a sorcerer?

Nefertina narrowed her storm-grey eyes but could not clearly make out the four people on the prow with Scarab. She could barely make out anything about the barge, the people looked like little dots or coloured specks. They _were_ people and not gods at any rate, which would be possible to tell from any distance.

She needed to get home and tell the others, it was a small blessing that she was too far away for the engines of the jetcycle to be heard. No one saw her take off from the turret either and she went quickly to the Sphinx.

After parking the jetcycle and running into the main room she crashed into Armon upon rounding a corner and, for a moment, sat dazed on the floor. The big mummy smiled and lifted the small woman to her feet. Rath crossed his arms and frowned at her and prepared to take her to task for the mess she made earlier.

"Come with me, I'll probably have to teach you to use a mop," he said while grabbing her upper arm and attempted to drag her back to the garage. She protested mightily and flipped him onto his back when he ignored her.

"Listen to me, Scarab brought some people though the Western Gate and they're human but they'll come after the prince. They looked alive, not like us, from what I saw of them. I couldn't see them well enough to tell who they may have been," she spoke rapidly, fearing they would not believe her and steeled herself for an argument.

They did, oddly enough, believe her, "Hmm, we'll find out soon enough what Scarab is planning. At least we can expect something," Rath said, "Jakal will want to know of this."

"Know what?" Jakal walked into the room then and a less rushed, slightly longer version of the tale was told. In the end he simply said they should guard the prince more carefully. They all agreed that was the best. The simplest plans usually were.

Yet as the falcon-warrior went to his sarcophagus for the night he could not understand the poorly concealed glare Nefertina cast his way. What had he done now? He hated it when she was angry with him, and it had been happening a lot lately. What had gotten into her this time? He needed to find out or the workings of the team could suffer and fall apart. She looked hurt somehow. Jakal hated seeing her hurt. Maybe he should talk to her. No, he _would_ talk to her. It would have to be later, but he would do it.

The four fighters sat or stood around Scarab's office going over their mission, they were now dressed in modern clothing. The clothing completely transformed them; no one would guess they were nearly 3600 years out of their time. It was just before dawn now, the night having largely been spent familiarizing themselves with this new time. Scarab had given them pictures of the boy he wanted and the mummies, another thing to marvel at. This time held many such marvels according to all they had seen thus far.

One such wonder was the photograph. It amazed and unsettled them that such images could be created by mere men. There was such a lifelike quality about them, it was as if they had been captured and placed in the little squares by magic.

Zarg had a stack of the little slick squares of paper he was perusing. All the warriors had them to better find the mummies and boy when the hunt began tomorrow. Personally, he couldn't wait to see this 20th century world first-hand, especially those horseless chariots, or better yet, one of the two-wheeled machines. What had the vizier called them? Motorcycles? Yes, that was it.

He flipped through the photographs and stopped as one caught his eye, it was a motorcycle. The Tuscan-redhead admired the simple, stylistic lines accentuated by the red and gold paintjob. It was a beautiful vehicle and his eyes began to roam up the leg of the decidedly feminine driver.

Wait… that could not right, the guardians were supposed to all be male. The driver, however,_ was_ a woman and he silently thought her curves were as eye-catching as that of the machine she straddled. Unfortunately, a feline-styled helmet concealed her face. He was not the only one to notice this unexpected turn of events.

Morankh noticed this fourth guardian, too, " Why is one this boy's guardians a woman?"

The vizier was obviously caught a little off by the question, "…The pharaoh was unaware of what she truly was; she disguised herself as a boy."

Khalset chuckled derisively, "A woman guardian? I think―"

"Whatever you're going to say, don't," Morankh murmured disapprovingly.

Zarg ignored them as they began yet another argument, the two fought worse than a married couple. He flipped though the pictures again, looking this time for any of the girl. The young man found only one other and in it too her face was half-hidden by that headdress of hers.

_If her eyes are as beautiful as the rest of her…_ he thought wistfully before a bark of laughter from Khalset brought him back to reality.

With the advent of morning came the hunt's beginning. Zarg did manage to get his hands on a motorcycle, there was one stored in the private garage of the great glass pyramid. It even had a name: Harley-Davidson. A strange name. When the old vizier tossed him the keys it came with a warning about the power this particular vehicle possessed.

"If it has wheels, I can handle it," he confidently boasted before blasting onto the street.

Presley tightened his grip around Nefertina's waist as a pick-up almost sideswiped them. He nearly screamed as well. Why had he ever asked to have her drive him to school? Having to not ride the bus was certainly not worth dieing over. The reincarnated prince was never happier to arrive at school than he was that morning. He had survived this trip; maybe he would survive this afternoon's.

"Have a great day at studies, O' Prince," she sounded and looked happy, perhaps she was, yet he had the feeling it was only skin deep though he had no idea why he felt this way or what would make her unhappy, "I'll pick you up at 3:45?"

"Yeah, sure," he couldn't ask her anything now, it would have to wait, "Bye, Nef."

The boy ran to class because of the bell having already sounded as Nefertina sped off down the street. A part of her was happy that Jakal let her take Presley to school without tagging along to watch over them both. It galled her, no matter how much she secretly loved him.

Yet how can she love someone who never trusts her? What cruel joke of fate was this? She should stay away from all of them, she decided suddenly. It would be for the best. The less they saw of her, the less trouble she could cause them. Maybe her feelings for the handsome archer would diminish if she did not see him so often. But what could she do to make him trust her?

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed someone begin following her. A goon hired by Scarab, perhaps? Had the person seen her drop off the prince? She would have to lead him away from the school and lose him in the city. That would be a simple matter. If Scarab was behind this, the man behind her could not be very intelligent unless the wizard was hiring from a different place.

Zarg cursed himself a thousand kinds of fool for being so careless when the girl mummy suddenly began to pick up speed. He had been out of practice far too long to have been spotted so quickly. The quick little motorcycle erratically darting in and out of traffic shot off far ahead of him. At first, the lean axe-wielder thought she might elude him, but she made the mistake of being brash and she obviously did not know who was pursuing her.

No one could outrun him if he chose not to let them. She still led him on a dangerous two-hour chase throughout the city.

_What a woman,_ he thought appreciatively, swerving a large, loud vehicle that blared at him in anger.

When she turned down an alley, he thought the chase would soon be ending, but there was no one in the alley when he streaked into it.

_The hell? Where'd she go?_ The alley was a dead end but there was no sign of the female rider anywhere. What magic was this? This had never happened to him before. He had been outfoxed in a chase… by a woman! _Damn._

Several blocks from the dead end alley where she left the joker following her, Nefertina landed the jetcycle on a deserted street and grinned to herself. That little disappearing act would confuse the schmuck to no end without a doubt. Funny, though, but that rider had seemed familiar; there was something about his style. Where had she seen that style of riding before?

Glancing back over her shoulder, as if she could see him, she frowned in puzzlement. Could she have met or raced him before?

She did that sometimes, racing late at night and had won a lot of money, gaining more than a few enemies because of it. It was these thoughts and the fact that she was still looking over her shoulder that she never saw the huge figure that stepped in her path. She noticed too late to brace herself against the powerful fist that slammed familiarly into her face. She was stopped dead and hit the ground hard on her back but the cycle kept moving. The riderless jetcycle fell to its side and slid along the asphalt, kicking up sparks and losing paint.

Nefertina put a hand up assess the damage to her nose and groaned, dazed, looking up at the figure standing over her. The light was coming from behind him so she could not see much save a silhouette, but it was a stance and build she was frighteningly familiar with. Vaguely, she was aware of something wet dripping out of her nose, and there was a coppery taste in the liquid that pooled in her bruised and torn mouth.

Despite herself and everything she had faced in her life as a guardian, her eyes widened in abject terror when she gazed clearly at her lifelong nightmare. She wanted to scream and cry and deny what her vision told her. She wanted to run. She wanted to hide. She wanted this to be a hallucination brought on by the pain. She wanted this to be anything but real. But how could she deny it?

Why did he have to come back? Why!

_Papa?_

_No. Not again. This isn't possible. No…Oh, gods, no…_

_Why did he have to come back into my life? Is this a punishment?_

The small charioteer scrambled to her feet in a mad dash to the fallen, sputtering jetcycle. She never looked back, fear had gripped her too tightly in its devastating embrace. With a choked sob, she raced down the street, nearly crashing more than once, trying to put as much space as possible between herself and the man who featured so prominently in her darkest nightmares.

End chapter 1.

I took the advice to break the first chapter up into smaller portions so it will be easier to handle. I hope this helps future readings. And a great big cuddly 'thank you' to all who have been kind enough to review so far. More chapters will eventually come; I just have no clue in earth or heaven when that will be.


	2. bad memories

Old Gods

Chapter 2

Rating: R for intense violence, adult language, and other such things.

Disclaimer: Dic owns this property, not I.

In the darkened corridor of the sphinx, Jakal stopped and watched a badly wobbling jetcycle carry a formerly missing girl into the garage. He wondered where she had been for so long.

The machine toppled over then, temporarily pinning her leg. What was wrong with her? She huffed in what sounded like a sob and staggered to her feet, spitting something dark red onto the floor.

Any lecture he was going to give over her tardiness had been forgotten long before even the rich smell of blood wafted to his nostrils and he stepped up behind her. She did not notice him and she wiped her face with the back of one slim hand; it came away stained crimson.

_She's bleeding more heavily than I thought. Merciful Horus, who did this to her?_

"Nefertina," he said quietly to get her attention. It startled her to find him right behind her but not as much as it startled him to see the ugly bruises, smeared blood, and swollen, split lip. Her grey eyes were huge, the pupils dilated greatly, and glistening silver with fright and unshed tears; it was a sight that made him see red, "What happened?" He might have sounded harsh but had not directed the harshness at her.

She had no way of knowing that.

The chariot driver hid her face and tried to run past him to the corridor. Acting on instinct, he grabbed her arm to make her stop but she acted upon her own instincts and spun around to slap him. Hard. Out of surprise he let go and stared at her. Realizing what she had done and to whom, the slight girl backed away from him, her lower lip trembling in fear. Gone was the fierce guardian who would have taken a defensive position, this was a frightened child before him.

Did she honestly think he would hurt her? What happened to her? She was frightened out of her wits. The fiery little protector he had come to know was gone as if she had never been. When he reached out to her, she made a frightened, stuttering sound, spun from him and fled.

He watched her go, a part of him wanted to chase after her and wipe the tears away while another part of him wanted nothing more than to hunt down the person responsible and beat them to death.

Where had that thought come from?

He was never quite this protective of her, but then, she never seemed to need any great protecting before. He took it for granted that she was completely capable of taking care of herself when he knew that everyone needed a helping hand every once in a while. Even such an amazing fighter as her. He should have been looking out for her safety better; she was his teammate and friend. It felt now like he had let her down.

Jakal went with his first instinct, no matter how much pleasure he might receive on beating whoever hit her to a bloody pulp. He trail was easily followed, for blood had an unmistakable scent, and found her in a darkened closet. The little driver was huddled in on herself and crying, great tears rolling down her face. He had never once seen her cry in all the centuries he had known her. It shocked him as much as seeing her bruises.

Did she realize he was here? Even behind a stack of boxes as he was, his entrance should have been noted loud as it was. Did she not care if he sees her? The Nefertina he knew would have, in fact, she would have already thrown something at him for witnessing what she would have considered a weakness. And the Nefertina he knew would not have merely slapped him, he should be picking up his teeth right now.

"Nefertina…" he whispered, too low for her to hear. _Gods, what do I do? If I do nothing this could happen again... and it could be a hundred times worse. She needs someone, but am I that someone? _

_I have to find out what happened. I have to help her, although she may not want me to._

He stepped out from the boxes and knelt in front of her quaking form. Touching her shoulder brought an unexpected reaction. Fear. She jumped and tried to curl into an even tighter ball, pure terror swimming through storm-grey eyes and small but strong hands coming up as if she expected him to strike her. She thought he was here to hurt her? Something monstrous happened to her if she believed so. It went beyond worrying if she truly thought he would ever hit her. He could never hurt her, would never think of hurting her.

"Nef… it's me. You know I wouldn't hurt you, don't you?" She nodded hesitantly and he smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way, "Good. Come on, let's get you into the kitchen so I can see to those bruises," he helped her to stand, guiding her toward the kitchen area and a chair at the small table.

Obediently, she sat still while he examined and prodded the darkening marks on her face. For however much it must have hurt, she never made a sound, merely watched him with huge grey eyes. "What happened?"

She faced away from him then, trying to compose herself, "Nothing you should be concerned about," she whispered.

"I think I should be," _how can she think that_, he asked himself while fixing her with a sterner look,"Now, what happened?"

It was not an answer he expected, "Why do you care?" she whispered. "Why do you care what happens to me all of a sudden? Are you afraid I won't be able to protect the prince? I can still do as good a job as any of you."

Jakal stared at her, "Your abilities haven't come into question, and I know you can still do a good job. And how could I not care what happens to you, you're a part of the team. But, Nefertina, I have to know what happened."

"Alright," she swallowed thickly and coughed, wiping her rapidly swelling lips with her hand, "I met one of the people Scarab brought through the western gate. We're in trouble. Oh…thanks," he had gone to get ice wrapped in a hand towel for the swelling. She winced when it was placed against her nose and upper lip, "We have to let the others know."

"You're not telling me everything. Why are we in trouble? You know who these people are. Are you going to let the rest of know as well?"

A nod. "They're the Gods of War."

The name was familiar but the meaning did not come immediately. When it did, his eyes went wide, "But they were loyal to Pharaoh! How could Scarab have gotten them to hunt down a pharaoh's son? We have to guard the prince every moment of the day with these¾ how many are there?"

"Four. There were always four of them."

"Four? Only four…" he murmured, "Doesn't matter, no matter how many they are, we can't let them take the prince. But _why_ are they after the prince? They would never go against Pharaoh."

"Maybe they don't know he's the prince. It's possible Scarab didn't tell them eferthig," her speech was becoming slurred as the swelling and pain became worse. She closed her eyes and could no longer hold back the fresh tears that spilled down her face.

Jakal watched her helplessly. What was he to do?

At 3:45, it was Jakal and not Nefertina who came to pick Presley up from school. He was puzzled. The charioteer never missed an opportunity to drive and she never went back on a promise. Yet she was not the one driving the decidedly less than pristine jetcycle. Something must have happened, but Jakal told him nothing, which only fuelled his curiosity to find out what was being kept from him.

The hunter did not take him home, as he would have thought but instead brought him to the sphinx. Whatever had happened must have been bad or, less likely, maybe Jakal finally figured out he loved her and was over-reacting about something that really was minor.

He wished that were the reason. The true reason was much more dire and Jakal was not reacting over something small but it did concern Nefertina in a way. The young woman was slouching on the stone couch, her head lying back on the headrest with a dazedly painful expression, a towel filled with ice pressed against her face. It looked like a truck hit her. Then she took the ice bag away from her face and the young prince drew in a sharp breath.

"Are you okay? What happened, Nef?"

She gave him a small smile, the most she could manage with split, swollen lips, "Nofin' I cad hannle, O' Prince." The swelling and bruises made her sound like she had a cold. A painful wince and the ice bag went back into place.

Rath walked into the common room then and from the condescending look he passed her way, he had heard her reply. The thin scribe handed her a chalice of something that smelled abominable and was a faint greenish colour. "Drink all of it," he ordered.

Even Presley wrinkled his nose from the smell and watched as Nefertina hesitated, a disgusted look on her face. After more urging from Rath and Jakal, the boy thought that was really the only reason she gave in, she downed all the smelly concoction in one drought. She instantly gagged and coughed.

"Don't be so over dramatic. It is not _that_ bad," his voice became oddly gentle, "The potion will make you sleep for a while so¾"

Her eyes flared, Presley sought shelter. This could be bad; hopefully she would fall asleep soon.

"You drugged me? How could you! You bas…" she nearly cracked her head on the stone couch when the drug took effect. Luckily Jakal had fast reflexes and caught her.

"I thought you were only going to give her a healing potion," his tone was slightly accusing when he rounded on the scribe.

Presley felt it was time for some answers, if for no other reason than to quell the coming argument. "Guys, what's goin' on? What happened to Nef? Come on, I deserve to know, I'm the prince."

The two guardians cast a glance between them and Rath cleared his throat, "Very well. Come, o' prince, let us find Armon so he can be apprised as well."

Jakal scooped her limp form into his arms and went to deposit her in her sarcophagus. In her drug-induced sleep, she nuzzled against him and murmured something too low for even him to understand. What was in that potion? He would ask Rath as soon as he had the chance.

Presley hated this new threat. Not for the whole fact that it was a threat but for the mummies playing shadow to him. Having someone constantly looking over your shoulder was annoying at best. That they had only the best intentions did nothing to ease the aggravation. He knew they only did it out of caution but it was troubling all the same to see whichever of them was with him every time he turned around. It was enough to make him wish Scarab would attack so they could all go back to normal. This kind of thing could ruin one's social life. _He_ never saw anyone suspicious looking but he tried more to get on with living than worrying about death at every corner. Personally, the little prince was beginning to wonder if there was really a threat or if the guys were all over-reacting.

Certain days were better than others. Jakal could keep out of sight but his presence was still felt and it got on Presley's nerves something awful. It was like any minute the man was going to swoop down to save him from some imagined threat. Rath was just…Rath. He tried to tell Presley all about everything they passed by but mostly could not. Armon was fun but hard to ignore because of his sheer presence and size. The young prince did learn one thing about the gentle giant: he was a lot smarter than he let on.

Of them all, he preferred it when Nefertina was the one who watched him. He could fairly easily talk her into taking him just about anywhere, either on the jetcycle or in the hot-ra. She could also blend in with teenagers much better than any of the others and she wasn't as stuffy as them either. He found out during one of those times that she _was_ a teenager, or had been when she died. She was days from turning 17 at that time; she was to be a teenager forever now.

"Do you ever regret not being able to grow up any more?" The red haired boy asked one day.

She considered this, "I've never really thought about it before, but I'm already fully grown physically... Y'know something, it's gonna be difficult having you listen to me when you get to be taller than I am. Not that you listen much now."

He had grinned at the image that evoked; he was at eye level with her now and he was only 14.

Days passed, nothing happened. The mummies continued to shadow him. The days eventually became a week, then two. Still, nothing happened.

Once, only once, there was a fairly close call between Nefertina and a man bigger than any Presley had seen before. The charioteer pulled his arm and led him away as fast as her legs could carry her, making sure he was right behind her. She took him back to the sphinx, apologizing profusely to everyone for being so lax in her duties. Lax? How had she come up with that?

"I still don't understand why you're making such a big deal about these guys. If they're anything like the ones Scarab's used before you shouldn't really worry so much."

Nefertina looked at him like he sprouted another head, "These men are the most dangerous warriors to ever live, we have every reason to worry. I should have been paying more attention today. I'm sorry."

Presley rolled his eyes, she had said that several times already. It wasn't her fault. He didn't understand why she thought it could be.

Two days they had been here and save for some brief accounts by Zarg and Khalset there were nothing to show for their efforts. Ikari cared little, he did not fully trust the vizier who ordered them about so. He was more interested in wandering along the streets of this strange and fascinating city.

Then he saw a sight that was very strange indeed and very familiar. It was a small sphinx; rather out of place in 20th century San Francisco, well, maybe not _so_ out of place on second thought. The vizier, after all, resided in a glass pyramid so maybe he should have seen this coming. Why would a sphinx have been built here of all places? There was nothing overtly special or magical about this location for a guardian to have been built. Still, it might prove worthwhile to investigate it, along with the museum next to it.

After a few minutes of studying some of the artifacts and gasping when he recognized some from when they were new― he felt very old at this― the raven-haired man felt someone watching him. Someone with a very familiar aura, but was this person a friend… or foe?

With a swift movement, he shifted his position to just behind that someone, a young woman with white hair who appeared startled by his sudden disappearance. She spun around and nearly collided with him. Backing up a step with a gasp, storm-grey eyes widened in shock.

For a moment, Ikari stared at her. She seemed so familiar… Then it hit him: her eyes, he saw them every time he looked in a reflective surface or when he thought of his beloved sister and his little niece.

"Nefertina…" he never thought to see her again.

It may end up being a very short reunion for her eyes became even wider and she shrank away, inching toward the exit.

"Wait, please," he extended a hand toward her, "Couldn't we at least talk a bit? It's been so long, don't leave again." He spoke quietly, pleadingly.

"Who are you?"

"Nefertina, it's me, Ikari." _Wait, what did she call me,_ "I'm… Uncle." _Please, don't run away again._

His little niece did the complete opposite, her face lighting up as she threw her arms around him. It was so unexpected, she nearly knocked him over, but he gladly returned the hug. And out of the corner of his eye he saw someone watching them. Who could this be? One of Nefertina's companions, perhaps? Yes, he must be. He wore the same bandages and a similar amulet. The young man seemed protective of his niece. It was good she found someone to be there with her. However the man was glaring suspiciously at him and Ikari was certain that if he made any seemingly threatening moves he would have this young warrior to deal with.

Before long, Nefertina noticed him too and smiled shyly, motioning him over. Her shy? _Hmm, this is interesting._ Her bright eyes grew slightly brighter; she was obviously infatuated with him. After some deliberation, the young man walked stealthily towards them. The distrust he radiated was palpable.

Nefertina ignored this, "Uncle, this is Jakal, Jakal this is my uncle, Ikari."

Jakal stood a protective distance from the small young woman; it was obvious he was trying to see to her safety but not seem to be doing so though why Ikari could not guess. Slightly puzzled, the sorcerer extended his hand in greeting.

Still unsure whether he could trust this man, Jakal shook hands just the same, if only for Nefertina's sake. He _was_ one of the Gods of War, but he was her uncle as well. That was very surprising, what else was she not telling him about this group? Though it certainly explained why she could fight so well, she was trained by the best apparently.

Was she keeping anything else from him? Why did she never tell him this? Was she even looking past the fact that he was her uncle? Family or no, he was still a potential threat to the prince.

"Why are you working for Scarab?" he asked in a growl after the introduction was over.

"What?" Ikari started, "Who is Scarab?"

"The old guy who brought you through the gate," his little niece supplied.

An eyebrow arched. "That is the vizier's name? I'd wondered." A strong hand was brought to his chin, "The name sounds familiar…"

"Scarab was once vizier to Pharaoh Amenhotep. He—"

"Was the one who murdered the young prince," Ikari finished for the young hunter. "I remember now and I ask for your forgiveness. If any of us had known the truth, we would have never listened to him."

Jakal stood by, feeling like a third wheel as uncle and niece chattered back and forth for several more minutes. He was amazed at the sudden change back to normal for Nefertina who had been near depressed for several days. It was also rather surprising to learn that no one in her family had seen her since she was eleven and had run away from home. After a while they had to part ways but promised to meet again the next day. Ikari had also promised to tell the others about Scarab as soon as he had the chance.

Once he had left the museum and the two mummies had returned to the Sphinx, Jakal began questioning: "Are you certain your uncle was telling the truth?"

"Yes. Uncle wouldn't lie to me." The young woman stated firmly.

"Very well," he held up his hands in mock surrender and crossed his arms over his chest, "But that doesn't mean I'll trust him."

"I never asked you to trust him. I asked you to trust _me_," she stared up at him for a moment with a glimmer of tears in her eyes, "But I guess that's asking too much."

Jakal jerked his head back slightly, "Nefertina," astonishment seeped through his voice, "How can you think that?"

"Never mind," the charioteer turned away from him, "Just forget I ever said anything. That's what you seem to be best at." She left the room and in minutes the jetcycle roared out of the sphinx.

Armon came from that direction looking slightly reproachful, "You had another fight with her, didn't you? She cries far too much afterwards," Jakal gave him a mystified look, "She was crying. Again. Though she would not want me to mention that. Why can't you get along with each other? I do not normally criticize anyone but you really need to be more tolerant, Jakal."

_She's crying? What have I done?_

_I'm pushing her away when she needs us most. Armon is right. I'm no better than the man who beat her. _

"Damn." He ran past Armon who only watched him go, pleased with himself that Jakal was finally beginning to see.

The hunter returned dejectedly hours later, he had been unable to find her and feared he had done irreversible damage this time. If only he had known, if only he had not been so stupid and blind. He had never meant for his lectures to make her feel so worthless, he was only worried and had tried to protect her in the one way he could openly make sure of. Now, because of his bull-headed idiocy, she may never wish to speak to him again. What had he done?

The person who hit her was still out there… she could be attacked again. But, after tonight, she would never want his help even if her life were at risk.

Was he really so terrible a person? So intolerable? Bloody hell, he was and he deserved everything she threw at him.

He should not have said those things. He hated seeing her beautiful silver eyes filled with tears. _That_ was truly intolerable.

Nefertina avoided him all the next day but when she left to meet her uncle, he followed her. He probably should have let her be but he wanted to make sure she stayed safe. Why was he being so protective of her? It wasn't very normal for him and Rath had already commented on it. If it weren't Nefertina, if it was anyone but her, he wouldn't have been so defensive around her. He was acting like a mother lion protecting her cubs… or a lover.

He wrested himself violently from those thoughts. It wasn't right. He used to be married and she was a teammate. He should just concentrate on watching out for trouble.

They had agreed to meet in the park, near the lake. Nefertina was right on time, was early actually. Her uncle was not; the man never showed up at all. She waited an hour but no one approached her. Her melancholy expression was enough to make his heart bleed and the urge to come out of his hiding place to comfort her nearly overwhelmed him. He could not do that however, for if she knew he had followed her, she would think he did not trust her at all.

"Maybe he would lie…" he barely heard her whisper just before she rose and left.

End chapter 2.

Thank you to all who reviewed, to all read, to all who have been following this story. It makes my heart glad.


	3. battle

Old Gods

Chapter 3

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Only the plot is mine, nothing more.

Scarab grumbled to himself as he went through a pile of old scrolls. Why did he always pick allies who end up betraying him? Fate must be laughing at him. Luckily, he had caught Ikari before anything happened. There was something to be said about forgetting spells. And interrogation spells for that matter. The new knowledge of the girl mummy's family ties might prove useful, very useful if his suspicions about her father were correct.

"Milord?"

"Yes, Morankh?"

"Pardon for the interruption but do you know where Khalset is?"

This caused the sorcerer to pause; there really had been no sign of the hulking man for close to a day. He was a loose cannon that needed to be closely monitored and if he knew anything about the mummies he might ignore his orders and destroy them and whoever was with them. That included the boy. _Damn, and he would have made a fitting apprentice._ The man was simply evil, an excellent trait when combined with the fact that he cared nothing about world domination.

"I do not know."

Khalset was currently roaming the streets looking for that blasted girl he had been hunting for weeks with no luck. Where the hell had she disappeared to this time? How did she ever become a royal guardian? She was next to useless; he had seen proof of that plenty of times.

And how dare she grow to look just like Ashait! The little bitch had no right to become a mirror image of her mother. It was not fair! His precious Ashait was dead while that whelp thrived.

He almost did not notice the white-haired figure driving a red motorcycle, and he would not have if she had not noticed him first and gasped. When he looked over and saw her staring at him in abject horror, he never noticed the boy sitting behind her on the vehicle. Khalset only wanted the girl. However, she sped away, again foiling his plans much to his rage and chagrin.

Later that week, he ran into her and the boy again when they were on their way to school, and wasted no time in grabbing them. His wayward daughter was backhanded soundly and now stared up at him helplessly. The boy struggled in his iron grip but it was no use. The teenager did not possess the strength to break free.

Presley, for his part, wondered fearfully why the normally aggressive charioteer was not fighting. That is, until he saw the naked terror etched into her wide grey eyes. It was like she was too afraid of this man to fight. That was impossible, Nefertina was afraid of nothing. What was wrong with her? When the big man grabbed Presley by the shirtfront, she seemed to snap out of her frozen dread enough to charge at him. The boy prince struggled and kicked at him to no avail.

"Lemme go!" He began to yell into his amulet, "Guys, HELP! NEF!"

Nefertina lunged at her father in an effort to fulfil her duty to the prince and her friend. All she really wanted to do was crawl away and hide. Instead she began to punch and kick, right, left, another left, a mid right, a high left, again and again. For a time, it appeared she might defeat him until he dropped the young prince and began using every inch of his massive body as a weapon. And his vehement tongue as a whip that had her near tears because everything he said was true. This left her open and her father took advantage of this to ram a fist into her unprotected face, the force threw her into a wall, hurting and frightened.

"RAPSES, RUN!" _Please, Bastet, don't let him take the prince._

Presley watched blood bubble out of her mouth and nose, standing rooted to the spot in fear. The only thing he could do was scream into his amulet and watch in horror as the blood welled and dripped. When the man gave a final, violent blow to her diaphragm, the auburn haired boy swore he heard cracking, Nefertina went down and Presley found himself trying to stay out of the man's grasp.

In the end, it turned out to be futile and he was dragged kicking and screaming to a car driven by a shabti. Where had that car come from? And where was everyone in this city! Surely someone would have heard the commotion and come looking or called the police.

Presley was thrown into the back seat of the limo and had just sat up when Nefertina's limp body was tossed on top of him and the huge man climbed inside with them.

"Drive." He barked to the shabti and sat in the seat across from his two young captives with a smile of triumph on his broad face. He actually took pleasure from what he just did to Nef.

The boy prince moved his friend and protector to where her head rested in his lap and her body lay across the seat; she looked so lifeless. Shedding his outer shirt, he wiped at the blood gushing out of her nose, trying to contain his queasiness at the sight of so much of it. And her ribs… a bruise had already formed where that man's fist connected; when he gingerly prodded it, Nefertina cried out and was awake within seconds, staring about her wide-eyed.

"Presley?" she mumbled in a hoarse whisper, "When did you get so tall?" she asked looking up at him.

_Huh?_ "Um, Nef, you're laying down…"

A sharp bark of laughter cut through the air, causing Presley to jerk his head up at the man across from them while Nefertina's eyes grew even larger and she shot up to a sitting position only to grunt in agony and clutch her ribs.

"You never were that smart, girlie, I see that hasn't changed." He smiled, "Scarab will be very pleased with your arrival, little boy. Whereas **I** can finally be rid of a thorn in my side that's plagued me for centuries, I'd wondered where you'd run off to, never would have guessed you to dress as a man and become a guardian. Trying to make up for all your shortcomings, daughter?"

_Daughter?_ "He's your dad?"

She nodded. Fate was indeed a harsh and cruel master. Nefertina was the one most deserving of some semblance of love and every card she turned up, it seemed, was a joker. It wasn't fair.

"I'm so sorry, Presley, I failed you. I failed my duties—" they hit a speed bump, causing her to wrap her arms protectively around her ribcage and scream painfully at the jarring effects on her battered body. She curled forward, choking, it sounded like.

He wanted to comfort her but didn't know how so he hugged her as best he could without causing her any more suffering; it was then he heard her whimpering: 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me, my prince. I'm sorry,' over and over again interspersed with groans and what sounded very much like sobs.

All the while, her father laughed darkly.

The silence in the limo was as that of a tomb when they pulled into an empty parking garage under some business building in town. Presley had been unable to tell which building it was. Was this where Scarab lurked? _I hope the guys get here soon_, he thought as he looked over to Nefertina's still shuddering form where she even now huddled in the seat next to him. This had been a turn around of things with him trying to reassure her, no easy task what with her father—he learned the man's name was Khalset—making such comments as he was. Her self-esteem was already shattered, if he kept up his remarks her sanity would probably follow.

Once the car stopped, Khalset came toward them with a glint in his eyes. Despite his best attempts at self-defense, Presley's shirtfront was grabbed, Nefertina was hit in the face so hard blood splattered over the rear window, and they were both dragged out of the car towards a freight elevator. Inside the large elevator, when the steel doors closed, he dropped the young prince and his daughter. Presley scrambled over to her unconscious form and hugged her to him. She was a dead weight and bleeding much worse than before.

What would happen to them now?

Scarab awaited them in a well-to-do office on the very top floor of the building and was indeed quite pleased to see Presley in his captivity at long last; the boy did not share the sentiment.

"Khalset, put them in a secure place until tonight when I can perform the ceremony. Oh, and tie them up tightly, I don't want them getting away this time."

"Both of them?" he asked a bit puzzled, "what use is the girl to you?"

The wizard smiled, "Insurance. With her as a captive, I can more easily manipulate the other mummies into leaving me be to take the boy's soul. They know I can't risk harm of the boy because I need him but the girl is of little use to me except vengeance, which Jakal knows I can and will take. The fool wouldn't let her get harmed."

A moan interrupted him, coming from one of his captives on the floor. She shifted slightly but otherwise remained still, mumbling something about not being true.

"Take them away and guard them well. I will ready everything and call you when the time comes."

By the time Jakal, Rath, and Armon raced into the area, it was near nightfall and heavy, black thunderheads filled the overhead sky; they found no one. Only the wreaked hulk of the jetcycle gave evidence that they were ever there to begin with. Rath was already pulling what he needed out of the Hot-Ra when Jakal picked up the overpowering smell of blood and fear. It would be possible to track the scent but he had a feeling he would never get to them in time after they had been missing for so many hours.

The thin sorcerer walked back towards his position once finding what he needed, a method to track the prince's amulet. They had to hurry, once Scarab got his hands on the boy, the villain would waste no time in taking the prince's spirit. He had already begun readings when Armon found something that did not bode well.

"Uh-oh. Guys, there's a problem," he held up a bloodied cat amulet with a broken thong. Nothing good was coming from this day. With Nefertina unable to transform, possibly severely injured, and Presley as little skilled in Egyp-tsu as he was, the two were as good as dead.

"Didn't you say her uncle was one of the warriors, Jakal? Surely he wouldn't let anything happen." Armon sounded hopeful.

"I don't entirely trust that man. We need to get to the prince as quickly as possible. Nefertina has obviously been injured and without her amulet, I don't believe she is enough to take on Scarab and his shabtis alone."

Rath finally got a lock with the device that looked like a golden ankh with an octagonal red gem in the loop. The gaunt scribe held the mystical life symbol before him and watched a glowing gold arrow appear in the gem and point to his left.

"Hmm… According to this, the prince, or at least his amulet, is Southwest of here."

The scribe's directions led the trio to a cliff side overlooking the bay and Western Gate. At the foot of the cliff, where they had driven up to, were an army of shabti and three of the Gods of War seemingly waiting for them. Lightning crackled angrily across the cloud-choked night sky, lending a thunderous uproar to the tension that engulfed both groups. They stood like statues in the flickering lightning strikes, when the shabti moved forward like a wave. As they crashed against each other the storm built and crested with the battle that raged far below its tumultuous clouds.

A furious falcon warrior ran upon the black-haired Ikari and experienced an overwhelming urge to kill the man. He felt the staff-wielder had betrayed her and told him such.

"Why have you done nothing to free your niece? She trusted you! You should have been the first to fight Scarab!" The hunter punched the older man hard in the face. As he staggered back a look of complete confusion swept over his now-bleeding visage.

"My niece? Nefertina was the girl Khalset had." Understanding dawned in his eyes, and dread, "Oh, gods. She's with her father…"

Another angry bolt of lightning lit the still dry night and Jakal's sensitive ears picked up a familiar scream before crashing thunder swallowed everything. Looking up to the cliff top, his blue eyes widened as fear like he had never known surged through him. It felt like the bottom had just dropped out of his stomach.

_Oh Gods, no. _A small body with long hair had just been thrown or pushed over the edge. There was no question as to the identity of that body. And now, with Ikari's startling confession, there was no question of who had done it. But why? How could a father do this? What kind of monster was he? A surge of savage fury crashed over him with more energy than the lightning crashing overhead.

_I'll kill the bastard for this._ How dare he lay a hand on her, no one had the right to treat her like that. No one had the right to treat anyone like that.

"Nefertina!" The hunter unfurled his wings and shot skyward through the dense air, coming up directly beneath the plummeting charioteer. When he slowed and pushed himself backwards slightly to catch her, she was a boneless, dead weight. Dark fluid and dark discolorations covered her face and when her midsection hit his shoulder, she cried out. Despite the urge to stop and see to her the urge to continue upward and get his hands on who did this was stronger and won out.

First, he had to save the prince. But, he thought, as Khalset came into view, if he could pound in a few blows to that monster in the course of the rescue, would anyone blame him? The bastard had this coming to him. Jakal shifted Nefertina to one arm in order to free up one hand and slammed that fist into the big man's face as he hurtled past. He supposed he took far too much satisfaction in the grunt of pain the man made but he didn't care. It was still satisfying.

He would finish with the bastard later.

Now it was Scarab's turn.

The sorcerer had Presley by the collar and was chanting something to draw the ancient soul from the boy when Jakal flew into him in a rushing tackle. Presley dropped to the ground, staring saucer-eyed at the murderous rage his lead guardian was in and praying he did not go too far. No matter what Scarab may have done, the boy shuddered at the thought of actually watching someone get killed or being the reason such an act was committed. It didn't seem as though Jakal was angry at Scarab himself, the falcon was merely angry. A hot, furious, irrepressible anger that burned the soul and seared the mind until it found justice. What was he seeking justice for? The boy saw the still body of Nefertina lying off to the side then and ran over to her.

He drew in a hiss of breath at the sight of her so lifeless and still where just minutes before she fought with all her strength against the man who caused her so much pain. Speaking of which, where was Khalset? It was too much to hope the man fell off the cliff when he was fighting Nefertina; luck never seemed to work that way for them. Presley drew her against him as heavy, hard rain began slamming into the ground in sheets of pounding rhythm and he hugged her close to keep her safe. She had sacrificed so much already, would this day see her life lost as well? He hoped not. He prayed not. If only he could have turned the tables and protected her this time instead of the other way around. For the moment, there was no sign of her burly, cruel father and he was glad, he was certain he would not be able to fight the man off long enough for any of the others to show up.

As Presley continued watching, Jakal battled Scarab until the ancient wizard turned tail and fled with many loud, vile curses and threats. The falcon guardian did not bother to try and chase after him, they would face off again another day without a doubt; instead he walked to where the reborn prince and the bleeding charioteer sat on the muddy ground. All the while, his head and eyes scanned the surrounding area for any sign of Khalset. There was none. Pity.

"Are you injured, my prince?" He asked while kneeling.

"No. What happened to Khalset?" The boy readily gave hold of Nefertina over to him and he checked to determine her full injuries.

He paused. "I'm not sure. The coward probably ran off like Scarab."

"Not likely, boy," came a deep voice as the hulking god of war emerged from the dark and gloom at a dead charge.

Jakal was more than happy to meet the man halfway, a dangerous glint shining in his ice-blue eyes. When the two warriors met, the very earth itself seemed shaken with their fury. The archer struck out almost blindly in his rage with a snarl of savagery and a vehemence even he never knew he possessed. No weaponry this time, his bow and arrows left with his charge; on this day, he would beat this man with bare hands. They crashed together, locked in a struggle that would only end in death for one of them but neither overly caring at the present, there was only the clash of one versus the other.

In his impassioned wrath, Jakal screamed for answers. "How can you do this to her? She's your own flesh and blood! Does that mean nothing to you?" His stentorian bellow carried over the cliff but seemed to fall upon deaf ears as Khalset continued to laugh. It caused only to further enrage the falcon, "You unrepentant son of bitch! Why do this to her? WHY? Answer me or I swear by every god in existence, I'll kill you!"

Where before there was a mad sort of laughter, Khalset suddenly turned deadly serious and spoke in an infuriatingly calm tone of voice, "No. You won't." Backhanding Jakal across the face and sending the smaller man into the ground, he began speaking again, "You want to know why, boy? Why my daughter earns nothing from me save disgust and loathing… Very well. The little bitch killed her mother," at Jakal's pause he continued, "If she had never been born, Ashait would never have died. I might have been given a son." For a moment his voice cracked, "My beautiful Ashait died because of that—that…" Out of words to describe the person he hated the most in existence, the big man slammed an equally big fist into Jakal's face, causing blood to erupt and spill down his chin.

Khalset cast a disparaging gaze down at the archer and propped battle hardened fists onto thickly muscled hips, "Why is it you care a whit for her? Surely you know of her stubborn wilfulness, her brazen stupidity. She never could do anything right," he shook his head at this as if he were discussing some troublesome beast. Then his black eyes widened and his face was engulfed with a look of great surprise and finally revulsion, "By the gods, you're the little wench's pallet partner, aren't you? I never—"

Suddenly he grunted, and fell silent, his eyes widening further, and turned to stare behind him giving Jakal a very clear view of the golden shaft jutting out of the man's back as it glinted in the dark. Following his gaze, the hunter gasped at the sight of a sinking Nefertina dropping his bow from suddenly limp fingers. Presley was right beside her as she collapsed and bore her gently to the ground, even from this distance it was clear he was crying. Khalset gurgled a laugh, spit out a mouthful of blood and mumbled something before pitching forward and remained unmoving in the rain.

Scrambling to his feet and splashing over to the teenagers' side, Jakal gently took Nefertina's body from Presley and cradled her to him while wiping drenched wisps of hair from her battered face. The young prince made no move to hide his crying as he stared at her broken body.

The pounding splash of many running feet let the two men know they were not going to be alone for much longer but neither made a move. When Rath, Armon, Zarg, Morankh, and Ikari reached them, none spoke, all stopped, and all stared in disbelief, fear, horror, and grief.

"What happened?" Ikari asked in a choked voice.

"Khalset." Presley mumbled.

The overwhelming anger in his voice caught everyone off guard, "Where is he?" Armon gritted out.

"Over there, she shot him in the back with an arrow." Jakal no longer cared if his voice cracked.

Zarg trotted to the spot indicated and came back in seconds grasping a broken arrow with one hand, "No he's not. The shot didn't kill him, he's gone."

"Should we give chase?"

Jakal shook his head, there would be time to hunt the monster down later, "Right now, we have more grave concerns." He stood with Nefertina held firmly in his arms.

Above them all, the heavens wept and exploded angrily across the turbulent empyrean…

End chapter 3

Is this worth writing another chapter or two for?

Are you curious as to whether Khalset will come back or if Nefertina survived? If so, please, do not hesitate to review and tell me so. Be gentle, this story has been in the works since 1997 and is not the greatest of them all. If you want superb writing, there are many others more capable than I (you all know who I'm talking about, none other than Julie Horwitz and Tigerseve). Did I spell those names right?

Thank you for your reading and reviews.


	4. found out

Gods of War

Ch. 2

Author: Miss Lizz

Rating: R for violence, blood, blooming love, and pain.

Disclaimer:  I own nothing but the Gods of War themselves.  Everything else is Dic's.

Author's Note:  This chapter and those following it will be shorter than the 10,000-word mega-chapter of the first.  It will be much easier to read in shorter format. This particular chapter will also be slower paced in the fact that it will be more focused on character interaction and thoughts rather than the more action focus of last.  I hope you enjoy.

One more note:  Thank you to everyone who reviewed.  I've rarely known such praise.  Thank you so much!!!  And I'm sorry it's taken so long to get a new chapter up.  Writing is a slow process when you have school and a job.

            Thankful for the rain that hid his tears, Presley watched his lead guardian cradle one of the greatest friends he'd ever had.  Thankful for the numbing grief that hid his anger, he heard Jakal announce they were not to go after anyone this night, that there were more grave concerns at present.  All the while, his haunted green eyes never left her form, feeling like her injuries were somehow his own fault because it had been duty to protect him regardless of what happened to her that led her to them.  If only **he **could have been more able to protect **her** this time!

            And Khalset lived… and not only lived but escaped.  He was on the loose and still a dangerous man to her, to them all if he allied himself with Scarab again.

            Of all the baffling unjustness in the universe, having that callous, ruthless beast as a father must be the most unfathomable of all.  Such cruelty was unbelievable toward one so sweet and kind natured as Nefertina.  She deserved far better.  She **needed** far better.

            There was so little he could do when they were in the clutches of Khalset and all he **could** do was watch helplessly as that bully of a father tormented her.  There was little he could do now as he watched helplessly as she was borne in strong, kind arms to the Hot Ra as Nature wept.

            When Jakal climbed into the very back seat he did not relinquish his sodden hold on her.

            A silence that nothing broke, save the basso rumble of thunder and crack of lightning, settled over this group of warriors during the impossibly long ride into the city toward the sphinx and home.  It was Rath who drove, taking the slick roads at a slow pace so as not to jostle his little teammate's broken body.  He was the one most in control of his emotions and was the most logical choice for a levelheaded driver least likely to kill them all in a monstrous hurry.  How could he be so calm?  In the face of all this, his unruffled composure was disconcerting.  

             Did he care?  Surely he did, surely he felt the same turmoil as everyone else but was just hiding it.  Presley looked over at him in the glow of the dashboard and saw the silvery gleam of tears in his ancient, green eyes.

            In the rear sat the three remaining gods of war, Armon, and Jakal, all wore varying degrees of shock, bereavement, rage, all openly cried.  The irony was not lost on the lean fourteen year old.  Nefertina believed she was the most despised of the team, if only she could see this…

            Jakal was seething.  The only thing that kept him from going forth this very second was Nefertina's welfare.  She was more important now than his vendetta for her father.  How could she have been raised by that madman?  There was certainly nothing of him in her.  She was one of the kindest people he knew.  What could possibly cause a father to despise his own flesh and blood?  

            Did she know how much she truly meant to him?  To all of them?  Or could her father have ripped out all feelings of adequacy?  

            Truly, a fouler monster could not have been dreamed in nightmare's dark realm to equal the horror of an abusive father.  Father's were supposed to love their children.  Khalset never deserved the title, he had never earned the right to be called father.  It was too much to hope that the man had slunk off and died in a gutter.  Was he aware he had earned a small army of enemies?  Would he care?

            As if sensing the violent turn of his thoughts, the small charioteer in his arms stirred, heaved a shuddering breath, and whimpered pitifully before dropping deeper into unconsciousness.  He whispered soothingly to her until she quieted.

            Questions could wait until later, the safety and well being of this young girl was of paramount importance.  He wouldn't leave her side until she was safe from her nightmares.  And well.  And healed.  And loved.  Helplessness the likes of which he had never before experienced stabbed at his heart, fear rent his soul asunder, and rage boiled hot and thick in his blood.

            "Why can't I stay with Nef?" Presley asked for perhaps the dozenth time.  They wished for him to go home but after everything that's happened, he was loath to leave her.  What if she woke up and no one was there for her?

            "Young prince," Rath patiently explained, "your mother is doubtless worried sick about you." He had stated this same line nearly half a dozen times already and it lacked all of his usual arrogance and pompousness.  "You wouldn't want her to call the police, would you?"  He sighed deeply through his nose. "She'll be well cared for you have my word on that.  Someone will be with her through the night and should anything at all happen, you'll be the first we'll call."

            "But--"

            "Young prince, you must go home to your mother.  Perhaps she will allow you to come tomorrow, it being Saturday but you must go home if only to rest after what had been an arduous day for all and to reassure her of your safety."  The scribe waited for another argument but Presley had decided to concede this one time.  "Good.  Come along, O prince.  Armon, Zarg, and I will escort you home."

            Without so much as a grumble, the reincarnated prince followed the scribe toward the garage but slowed his pace when he passed the small chamber where Nefertina was being tended.  Held up by the strong and capable Moranhk while Ikari tightly bound her broken ribs in fresh wrappings, neither noticed the boy in the doorway and neither paid any heed to the melancholy man in the darkened corner who watched the two's every move.  When he realized Presley saw him, he hung his head and wiped at his tears.  The prince moved his gaze back to where the little charioteer was now being laid back onto the narrow cot by both her uncle and her uncle's teammate, both of whom tried to jostle her battered body as little as possible.  In the harsh lighting, her bruises were even more terrible to behold and her injuries even more apparent.

            He had never seen anyone so beaten, so lifeless…

            "Young prince…" Rath said quietly as he laid a hand on his shoulder.  Until that time, he hadn't realized he stopped and was staring at the scene through tearful eyes. 

            A sigh that could have been a sob escaped him and Presley continued on to the Hot Ra, wiping his eyes on his already dampened sleeve.  The journey home was largely silent, the riders lost in their own thoughts.  In his mind, the prince was reliving every moment spent in Khalset's 'care' and remembered every word, every blow he dealt to his quaking daughter.  _If only I was stronger, and older, and better at Egyp-tsu, I could have protected her like she always protects me._

             Before then, he had never known Nefertina to be so frightened she whimpered and sobbed and even pleaded.  But she had pleaded for his release; even so hurt as she was, she still put her duty above all else.  Khalset ignored her and continued his physical and verbal assault.  He just ignored her…

            "How could he do that to her?"  Presley almost didn't realize he spoke aloud until Rath answered.

            "I honestly can't fathom why he's doing what he is." Silence the length of several heartbeats descended upon them before the scribe spoke again in a low growl, "He's evil.  It's the least of what he is."

            Presley agreed and turned to Zarg who was driving a short time later, "Zarg, you knew Khalset a long time, didn't you?"

            "Yes, and I wish I didn't.  He's always struck me as being a very cruel individual and it took me by surprise when he fell in love with Ashait and married her.  He was like a different person then, laughing, joking, at ease with the world."  He paused for a moment as if contemplating just how much he should divulge.  "And when Ashait became pregnant, he became even more ecstatic and spoke every day of what all he was going to teach his son, that they were going to be the best father-son team in all of Egypt.  And the baby was months away at this time and already he was planning what the child would be like.  He wouldn't even consider that the baby would be anything but a boy.  Wouldn't hear of it, there was no way a man like him could father a girl were his words.  Most of us knew that Ashait secretly thought that the babe in her womb was going to be a girl but she was afraid to tell Khalset because of his famous temper even though he had never shown it around her."  Zarg stopped again when the rain suddenly increased in intensity and vision lessened considerably.

            "Ashait was Ikari's sister if you hadn't guessed that already.  She was a small lady; loud, headstrong, she had a big heart.  Nefertina is the spitting image of her in both body and spirit.  It's amazing how much they're alike.  When the accident happened…" He stopped talking, shifting gears fluidly, clearing his throat.

            "What accident?" Armon prompted.

            He hesitated, "… I'm not sure if I should really be telling you this but it's too late now and you would do better if you knew.  There was an accident like I said, Ashait was a little over eight months along in her pregnancy and was constantly getting these weird cravings for food.  The day it happened, she and Ikari were in the market of Bast when a food craving hit, causing her to wander away from Ikari.  She passed a stall of oxen and cattle and somehow one of them got loose and-and Ashait was in the way…  From what Ikari told us all, she was hit hard and the blow sent her into labour.  She never got to see Nefertina before she died four hours after she was struck.  By the time this happened, Khalset had been called and was pacing out in the street of the healer's house.  When he was told that Ashait had died, he went to pieces.  That was the first and only time I'd ever seen him cry."  He swallowed.  "Nefertina was born two hours after her mother died and nearly followed her in death.  When she was forcefully cut from the womb, she wasn't breathing and would have been given up on if not for Ikari.  The man would not give up on his little niece and somehow got her breathing.  Khalset barely spared the wet, screaming infant in Ikari's hands—she was a very tiny little thing—and went instead to kneel beside the body of his wife."  Zarg cleared his throat, wiping his weeping eyes," At first we all thought he just needed time to get over the worst of the shock of Ashait's death before he could take care of the baby.  Gods, we were never so wrong."

            The young warrior stopped the Hot Ra in front of Presley's home while shaking his head and just seemed to wait for something else to happen.  They now knew what happened during Nefertina's birth but it did not explain why Khalset hated her so.  Her mother's death was not her fault at all.

            "You can possibly guess the rest.  I've told you everything I know for certain, but it's not everything.  Anything else you'd have to ask either Ikari or Nefertina."

            Presley wasn't sure of what to say after this learning tale but he felt he had to make some comment.  That comment was best made with silence as he got out onto the sidewalk.  He watched them drive away into the rain-soaked night and walked to the front door with his head hung low and his hands shoved deep into his pockets.  His mother opened the door just as he got to it and pulled him into a tight, desperate embrace and burst into loud sobs, as she demanded to know where he had been.

            "It's alright, Mom," Presley spoke haltingly as Amanda put a plate of spaghetti in front of him.

            Amanda looked askance at her bruised and tousled little boy, into his reddened eyes and gloomy expression and know that wasn't true.  "Don't lie to me, Presley.  It's not alright, I can see it," when still he hesitated, she sighed.  "Please, tell me what's wrong, honey.  Are you in some sort of trouble?"

            He shook his head, "No.  It's a… friend… She's having some family… issues right now.  I've been with her all day."

            "So you skipped school, didn't call anyone to say where you were… I've been worried half to death.  For all I knew you'd been kidnapped or-or worse," Amanda paused, watching her son wolf down his second helping of spaghetti.  "Did your friend forget to feed you as well as keep you from a phone?" At the look he passed her way, she pressed on, "I'm proud that you're willing to help a friend through difficulty but… well…hmm… Who's this friend?  Do I know her?"

            Presley swallowed his mouthful of noodles and slowly drained his glass of milk.  "You don't know her, mom.  She's just a friend from… around town."

            He still wasn't telling everything.  Why did her little boy have to keep so much from her?

            "What sort of problems is she having?"

            "Um… her dad's…uh… he-he hits her…" This last was said in a small voice.

            Her green eyes went wide, "Oh my God!  Is she all right?  She's not still staying with him, is she?"

            I think she's going to be all right but I'm not sure.  Right now she's with her uncle and some friends."

            It still felt like he wasn't telling her everything but he wouldn't make up a story like **this**.  When would he tell her everything?  There was more to this and tonight she was going to find out what.  

            "Did this man hit you as well?"  
            Presley looked confused for a moment, "What?  Oh, this," he touched the purple and green mark on his forearm and the lighter one on his cheek, "No, he never hit me.  I got these when Nefe-uh, my friend fell on me."

            "Hmm…" she sensed that at least was the truth.  "Presley, honey, you know you can tell me anything, don't you?"  He gave her a slow nod, suddenly suspicious.  Good, 'cause you're going to tell me what's really been happening these past few weeks."

            The teenager stared down at his empty plate, fiddled nervously with his fork, ran a hand through his damp hair, and chewed on his lower lip as if in deep contemplation.  Or in an attempt to stall.

            "Now, young man," the auburn-haired woman said in a tone that meant he would if he knew what was good for him.

            A sigh.  "Alright.  This is going to be kinda hard to swallow, but I swear it's the truth."  He fingered the old amulet around his neck, "This **was** given to me by friends from Egypt like I told you but they're not exchange students.  Two years ago, I found out I'm really the reborn spirit of Erpat Amenhotep's son, Heq Rapses, those friends of mine are actually 3500-year-old mummies and were the guardians of Rapses.  They woke up from some sort of magical sleep during the exhibit to protect me from an evil sorcerer named Scarab who's after Rapses' soul…  You don't believe a word I just said.  It's the truth!  The mummies are my friends much more than they are my guardians now.  Scarab being after me is also the reason I'm always coming in late with bruises and cuts and torn clothes."  He saw the skeptical look on her face, "Why don't you believe me?  I promise this is the whole truth, I couldn't make up a story like this in my wildest dreams."

            Amanda crossed her arms, tilting her head to the side, "It sounds too fantastical to be true but you're right, I can't see you making up a story that crazy.  However, I'd still have to see it before I'll believe it."

            The instant she said that, his face lit up with an idea and a grin split his face, "Perfect!  I can take you tomorrow!"

            "Honey, I have to work tomorrow."

            He went on as never hearing her, "It'll be great!  Now that you know, the guys won't have to hide around you anymore and I won't have to lie about where I've been.  I--"

            "Presley, where do these 'mummies' of yours live?  Close to the museum I assume."

            "Um…  Actually, it's a whole lot closer than you think.  Technically, you won't even have to leave the museum."  He gave her a sheepish grin and scratched his head, "You know the Sphinx…?"

            A slim eyebrow arched upward, "They… live in the Sphinx?  Well, it would certainly explain some of the reports I've read from the watchmen.  If you **are** taking me to meet these people tomorrow, I'm getting you up at the same time I get up."

            Her son groaned, "Then I guess I should go to bed now."

            "Take a bath first, you're filthy."  She called when he was walking up the stairs as she began to straighten the kitchen.

            What a strange day this has been, and such a strange conversation that was.  That old saying, what was it again?  'The truth is often stranger than fiction.'  Was the unbelievable story Presley told her tonight the truth?  Her little boy was never in the habit of lying and what he had told her was certainly stranger than anything he could have said.  Abduction by aliens might have sounded more credible than mummies and sorcery.

            But, he was willing to show her proof of what he said, that counted for much in her book.  If it had been a lie, he would never have offered proof.  She already halfway believed him but would continue to play the skeptic until she met these supposed mummies and was shown without a single doubt whether or not they existed.

            The dawn promised to be bright and clear when the first wings of light began to streak their way over the horizon, painting the sky in pinks and oranges amid the singsong calls of greeting from awakening birds.  A dawn sky was a sad thing to miss being so glorious an occasion.  It was a beautiful sight that made the heart soar and the soul sing.

            So long as she's had her coffee.  

            At most times the dawn merely signaled the end of sleep and the beginning of another workday.  Oh joy of joys.  Today was no different except that Presley was accompanying her to the museum and she could quite possibly be throwing most of what she knew about mummies and Egypt out the window if everything her son said was the truth.  If it was, think of what could be learned about that ancient jewel of civilizations from people who'd lived there firsthand.  But what could have brought them back to life?  Magic couldn't really exist, could it?

            Amanda sleepily wandered into the bathroom and stumbled over her son's clothing before she noticed them.  It didn't cause her to fall but it did guarantee this was not going to be a perfect day.  Bad or weird days always started early.  Which was this day to be?  Bad or weird?

            She scooped Presley's clothes up and was about to throw them into the hamper when she noticed the dark, rusty splotches on his ivory, long-sleeved shirt.  Blood.  There was blood on her little boy's clothes.  Why did she not notice it last night?  A mother should realize these things.

            Hurrying out of the bathroom, the single mother ran to her son's room and burst in without even thinking of knocking.  Presley nearly jumped out of his skin when she rushed inside.  He was already up and had been dressing, having gotten only as far as putting on a pair of brown carpenter pants.

            "I'm up!  I'm up!" He cried defensively.

            "Are you okay?!" At his completely blank look she held out the bunched shirt, "Is this your blood?"

            He took the shirt and held it up to look and shook his sleep-tousled head negatively.  This is Nef's blood." His expression fell.

            The green-eyed woman looked at the shirt still held up in Presley's hands and realized just how large the stains were.  His friend had bled this much?  Her father caused it?  "Please tell me she was taken to a hospital…"

            He again shook his head. "A hospital would only throw her in the morgue if they saw her at all or call some government agency to cart her off.  Ikari and Moranhk know about healing though, they took care of her."

            "I'm not even going to ask who they are."

            The pair of them were on the way to the museum within half-an-hour after that, stopping along the way to eat breakfast.  Being so early in the morning, the place was empty save for the single security guard at the front desk who greeted them casually as Amanda signed in.  Then she was following Presley as he walked in a beeline past the multiple displays and sections to the rear of the not overly large museum to open a doorway with his amulet even she never suspected was there.  He then led her through a short, dark hallway and stopped before another portal where he turned to her.

            "Mom, try not to freak when you meet my friends.  Please."

            "I can show some maturity, you know," she replied dryly.

            He scowled and went through the portal with her right on his heels.  There were four men arrayed around the good-sized chamber with the four sarcophagi along one wall.  Four very familiar sarcophagi.  Three of the men were gray-skinned and swathed in old, yellowing bandages, and all of them were looking at her with curiosity, surprise, or suspicion.

            "Oh dear," she mumbled and fainted dead away.

End ch 2.

Here're the definitions of the old Egyptian words I used:

                        erpat- an ancient name for pharaoh.  Much older than the more common suten.

                        heq- a name for prince.

I really, truly hoped you found some enjoyment in this chapter.  It will get better next time, I promise.

Thank you and please review,

Miss Lizz  ^_^


	5. friends

Old Gods

Ch 3

Author: Miss Lizz

Rating: R for some rather intense scenes.

Disclaimer: You know I don't own them, if I did there would have been more seasons.

Note: For better or worse, here's another chapter…

            "I told her not to freak."

            Those were the first words uttered in the surprised aftermath of Amanda Carnovan's fainting.  That the utterance was by one too young to have such a grasp on dry sarcasm made little difference in things all considered.

            "You brought your mother here?"  Jakal asked incredulously.

            The boy at least ad the decency to looked chagrined but not for very long and a cheeky grin wreathed his face and he told them all that she knew about them and most of the circumstances of the last several weeks and that it was about time she **did** know.  Didn't he think so?

            "Perhaps, but you should have given us warning, or waited until this whole mess was cleared up…" He scolded mildly as he came over and lifted the unconscious woman to deposit her onto the stone couch.  It would not do to leave the prince's mother on the cold floor.  Why had Presley decided to all of a sudden come out and tell his mother?  Though it was well past time that she knew, why under such circumstances as these present ones?

            "Damn.  It wasn't a dream."

            The mutter drew everyone's attention to the slab where Amanda was lying wide-awake, looking up at the motley group around her with a rather large degree of disbelief.  She sat up slowly, obviously uncomfortable with the weight of so many stares bearing down on her.

            "Uh… nice to meet you?" Armon said finally after several awkward seconds of silence.

            She looked at him uncertainly, "Yeah… you too… Wait, I know you people.  I've seen you around Presley before."

            Jakal cleared his throat.  "Yes, well… it_ is_ our duty.  And… and…" he trailed off in a complete lack of anything to say.  This was possibly the most awkward meeting in history.  He just wanted to sit with Nefertina and make sure to himself she was doing good and healing, but he couldn't act discourteously toward the prince's mother and running out of the room despite having the best of reasons would be seen as rude.

            What was he to do?  He didn't want to leave Nefertina alone, he wanted to say close and protect her from any other harm.  He wanted to go out and hunt down that bastard Khalset.  Rage boiled past the surface every time Jakal thought of what that man had done to his daughter.  How dare he treat such a talented, vivacious, beautiful―

            _No!  I should not think of her this way, she's a teammate… and I'm married.  I can't feel anything for Nefertina, I love my wife… _and if he says that enough it might remain true.

            He just had to keep telling himself that these overwhelming urges to protect Nefertina stemmed only from her circumstances and not any underlying attraction he felt for her.  That is all it is, that is all it could be.  He must not think of the little charioteer as he had been, it should not be.  

            Ikari and Moranhk entered the room, both looking drawn and haggard and saddened t what they had faced.  Was Nefertina worse?  Why else would they look as though Death had been visited upon them?

            "How is she?" The door was left open so she could be heard if she awoke but only a single candle was left alight and all that was illuminated was a soft outline of a small feminine body.

            "Still unconscious," Ikari answered after a pause, "but she's stopped bleeding and seems more peaceful at the moment.  It will be days, however, afore I'll allow her to move so someone should be here at all times for the next several weeks just to be on the safe side."

            Jakal would gladly stay by her side until the end of time but there was still Khalset to be dealt with.  The man would be brought to justice in due time but Jakal was not waiting weeks to track him down and he didn't think Nefertina would either.  She should be the one ultimately wanting justice for everything that monster had done.  

            He couldn't even begin to imagine what could have been done to her in a childhood spent with that man.  There was no telling what nightmares she'd had to endure at his hands, the suffering she felt, the hurt.   It made him see red.  That man _would_ pay and he would pay dearly.  The hunter would simply help her along until she was well enough to do it herself but he would still be there with her.

            He leaned back against the doorframe to watch her sleep, hardly paying attention to the subdued, highly philosophic discussion going on behind him.  Who would have thought that the skinny, lanky girl he watched grow up would become such a little beauty?  She'd certainly grown to fit her name, truly becoming a beautiful woman in every way.  Any man she bestowed her feelings upon would be blessed by Bastet herself.

            Glancing over to the four men deep in discussion behind him, it was strangely unsurprising how quickly they had allied themselves with the guardians they had earlier hunted.  The two teams were simply too similar to remain enemies when the truth was come out.

            Thoughts of the teams and of Nefertina naturally led to the bubbling anger he felt over what a monstrous… fiend Khalset really is.  While he had never been fond of the man, Zarg had always considered him a honourable, trustworthy man.  How could he ever have been so mistaken in judgment?

            He knew now why she had run away at the tender age of twelve and he understood why Khalset had seemed so indifferent when that happened while all the rest of them when insane with worry and fear.  The poor girl, if only he'd known…  If only any of them had even suspected.  Khalset would have been in his grave far sooner.

            Movement near the bed caught his attention instantly, hoping it was Nefertina waking up.  It wasn't her; it was the hunter who led her fellow guardians.  Jakal moved a strand of shock white hair from her face and placed his large hand on her forehead in a gentle gesture Zarg would have been surprised to witness just yesterday when he first spent any time with the man.  Now he was just a little embarrassed to observe the tender caress, for that _is_ what it was, but it didn't surprise him, not anymore, not after talking to him and watching the way he acted around her.

            Jakal cared for her infinitely more than he would admit.  More fool he.  It could almost be said he loves her and the fool would probably never admit it.

            The hunter noticed him then, or perhaps he'd known all along, and drew back into the surrounding shadows from which he apparently came.  Zarg moved farther into the windowless room after taking one more surreptitious glance out to the others.

            "Jakal?  Why are you hiding in here in the dark?"  He asked into the candlelit gloom, not having yet pinpointed the hunter's location.

            "Hiding." Came a quiet growl from directly in front of him, causing him to jump back in startled surprise.  "I don't hide, Zarg."

            Zarg crossed his arms over his chest, "Then, prithee, what _are_ you doing if not hiding?"

            The growl he received was purely defensive in nature, "Nothing!" He paused suddenly, then replied guiltily, like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, "…I… just wanted to sit with her… and keep her safe…" this last statement made in a small voice as if Jakal feared telling such a thing.

            For a moment, Zarg said nothing, merely stared at the other man in silence as more pieces of the puzzle fit into place.  There was no surprise, no condemnation in his voice when he finally did speak.

            "You love her."

End Ch 3

It's not as long as the first two but I hope you like it.  I don't know how long the next will take but it's being written even now.  Please send many reviews.

Thank you, 

Miss Lizz


	6. Jakal

Old Gods

Ch. 4: Jakal

Everyone should know who's writing this, who owns it, and what it's rated.

            For a single, swift moment he stared wide-eyed at the lean warrior, completely and utterly shocked to the core over what was just so calmly stated.

            "No!" Jakal vehemently denied, then added with less heat and far less volume, "No.  What you're saying is impossible.  I don't― I _can't_ love Nefertina, I'm a married man and I love my wife."  How can Zarg think he loved Nefertina?  He didn't, he couldn't.  There was no way he could, no way he should.

            _You love her._  The words ricocheted through his mind.  No he didn't!  To him, it was an accusation of unfaithfulness as foul as any he could name.  He couldn't love anyone but the woman he was married to and that woman was waiting for him on the other side.  How dare this young pup say such a thing!

            Zarg was infinitely calmer than he was when the axe-wielder spoke, "And I'm pleased you're so devoted to this wife but surely you realize it's possible to fall in love again.  It's been happening to men and women longer than you or even I have been on this earth and there's no wrong or dishonour in it… In our own culture even, men often took more than one wife, often at the same time.  You're not doing anything wrong if that's what's worrying you."

            He felt ready to explode.  "I'm no going to betray my wife.  I don't care what culture says about it, it's not right to me.  I'll never love Nefertina, I'll never be able to; I'd still feel like I'm cheating on Tia!"

            "Is that her name?" The other man said as if to himself.  "Have you ever considered that Tia might have fallen in love with someone after your death and remarried?"

            How Jakal managed to storm out of the chamber without knocking him on his backside, he'll never know.  Of all the insolent, thoughtless things one can say―!  How dare he…

            He stalked past the four men who'd stopped chatting to stare at him in puzzlement but he paid them no heed, he was too angry right now.  He needed to go somewhere and rage by himself.  Once outside, he called his armour and shot upwards into the unusually humid sky, thick with dark, roiling clouds.

            There was going to be another storm.  It matched his current feelings and the violent, unsettling thoughts set loose in his mind.

            _You love her._

            No!  He did not.  He _dared_ not.  His heart was already taken for eternity; it could be no other way.  Couldn't it?

            Protectiveness was all he felt for Nefertina.  Protectiveness… and admiration… but not love.  Never love.  Never with the small, beautiful girl lying injured on a shabby cot in the Sphinx.  It could never be between them, he had his wife… and his infant son… and Nefertina had― she had― who?

            _Apep?_

            His lip unconsciously curled in contempt, not Apep.  The wretched serpent was not good enough for her; it did not matter that he was a god.  He was the god of evil and as such would have ended up killing the charioteer eventually.  Such a crime did not abide well in Jakal's thoughts and would never be allowed.  No more harm would come to her if he had any say in the matter.

            But he could never allow himself to love her; he loved Tia.  Didn't he?

            Despite his animosity to the idea, Zarg's last question hung in the air before him, urging him to dwell on it and consider if it might be true.  Could it be true?  Could Tia have fallen in love with someone else?  He wanted to balk at the notion but realized it was pure selfishness and masculine pride that led him to believe she could never love anyone after him.  She had been a young mother when he died that first time, there would have been ample time and ample opportunity for her to find another who could take care of both her and Padjit.

            Had it happened though?

            He knew not.  Ah, but if only he did.  Though he knew not what that knowledge would create, whether it is good or bad, whether he could be allowed to change, whether he should.  Odd, but before tonight― before Zarg made that shocking statement and those subsequent questions― Jakal had never given thought to the possibility that his wife was no longer that.  Now that the niggling thread of doubt had been planted into his thoughts, it did not go away as he so hoped, instead growing rapidly to consume him in uncertainty and fear.

            _Could Zarg be right?  Could Tia have remarried?_

            If only he knew… if only there was some way he could find out, some way he could be told.  

            He landed on a bluff overlooking the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean, in hopes the truly timeless water would calm his boiling thoughts that raged more ferociously than the waves beating harshly against the rocks far below.  Such was not to be the case it appeared, for his mind refused to be stilled on the matter.

            What was he to do?  He longed to scream to the heavens, _what was he to do?_

            _Gods, help me…_

            "Ahem, excuse me," a decidedly purring voice said from behind him, "but only one god_dess_ is required for you, young man," he turned, "and I just happened to be in the neighborhood."

            By Osiris' beard, it was Bastet!  Jakal immediately went on guard, tensing his body in anticipation for an attack.

            "What are you doing here, Bastet?" If it came out a growl, he couldn't help it.  After that last run in with her, Jakal didn't trust her not to be here for mischief and mayhem and possibly revenge.

            The goddess arched a slender brow at his demeanor in total amusement, "Oh, calm down, I've not come to cause trouble, I've come to do my job." She smiled slowly, sensually, and placed her hands on slender yet generous hips.  A prickle of warning ran down his spine.  "I am after all, the goddess of love among other things of that nature.  And I must say, I'm very disappointed in you, young man."

            Jakal answered immediately and defensively, "I was never going to do anything―"

            "Exactly!" She interrupted angrily.  "You must be the most stubborn love-sick fool I've ever laid eyes on.  And I've seen a lot.  You have a second chance at love and all the wonderful bonuses that go along with it and you're too frightened to see that…" The feline goddess trailed off, shaking her head as if some sad crime had been committed.

            "But I love my wife… you should know that."  It came as an accusation.

            Her eyes flashed, "Don't take such an impudent tone with me, boy." She paused, collecting herself, "Are you certain you love her?  Or is it merely stubbornness and old habit that keeps you saying such?"

            He bit back the retort and choked on the answers in indignation.  How dare she accuse him of only loving Tia out of habit!  She is the second so far today.  Was he sending out some sort of signal he wasn't aware of?  Why all of a sudden was everything he thought concrete falling apart?  Why was it happening so quickly?

            "Of course I love her, she my wife and the mother of my child."

            "And if I am no longer your wife?" A totally new and totally familiar voice now spoke.

            Tia?  Jakal looked for the source of the voice only to realize that there was no one else atop this bluff but himself and Bastet and she had certainly not spoken.  That had been Tia's voice; he was sure of it.  Where was she then?

            Bastet cocked her slender eyebrow at him again and made a sweeping motion upwards with her arm, creating a transparent, glowing form beside her.  It slowly solidified into the softly curved body of his wife.

            Much as he would have liked to embrace her, he held back and turned a hard gaze to the goddess of love, "What trickery is this?  If you've truly come to help me, why torment me with these apparitions!?"

            "Apparition?" Bastet started, looking over at Tia, "Real charmer, isn't he?"  She spoke next to him, "I assure you, this is in fact, Tia… her spirit form at least, for she is quite dead, aren't you, honey?"

            "Yes, and stop calling me honey.  Jakal," she began, "we must talk."

            She smiled and finally he did not deny it anymore.  It was her.  Tia.  Though the thrill he expected to feel of seeing her again was more muted than he would have believed possible, he still came forward and enveloped the human woman in a hug.  She returned it hesitantly.

            "Tia!  It's great to see you after so long." He released and held her at arms length, "What have you been doing since… since…" What was he supposed to say?  Since he died?

            She pushed his hands off her shoulders with a sad smile, "We must talk, Jakal…"

            He swallowed and nodded.  "I would never have―"

            Again he was interrupted, "I know, Jakal, and that's why we needs talk… I admire your loyalty and a part of me still does― and always will― love you."

            "I wish I didn't hear a 'but' in this…" He muttered and winced, a feeling that made him uneasy began to unfurl in his chest and somewhere deep down, and he began to hope for something he shouldn't.

            Tia smiled again, "_But_ it's time to move on… After you died and all the last spells were said, I mourned, for over a year I mourned you loss before I began living― really living again and not just existing― and I… I fell in love again."  She paused, as if this were a difficult thing to discuss with him.  "He was a scribe for suten Amenhotep named Ani… At first I fought against my feelings for Ani in deference to your memory― just as you're doing to that young girl, I might add― but then I just gave in.  I believe you would have liked him.  He was a strong man, a just and fair man of unswerving character, and he was wonderful father to Padjit and my other children…" She gave a small, embarrassed laugh, "Don't put yourself through the same hell I put myself through with Ani.  We were very happy together till the very end and are still, and I'm certain you and Nefertina will be as well if 'tis not too late…"

            His head felt like it was spinning, the sheer weight of what was just said knocking him for a proverbial loop.  In all truth, he knew not whether to be sinking into despair or awash with relief at the news that the woman he had remained achingly loyal to for so long had all along been someone else's wife.  He fluctuated between the two for many minutes until coming upon the sudden, horrible, excitement-tinged realization that he was glad for it.  Mightily glad for it.  How could he not be devastated?  Why was he not?  Were his feelings for Nefertina so strong then and for Tia so weak?

            "You… were- are… happy with this man?" Tia nods. "And Padjit?  What became of him?"

            She smiled widely this time, "He grew to be a tall, strong man with a wife and several children.  I told him everything about you― Ani encouraged this― he became an artist, a very accomplished one for the court.  You would have been very proud."

            "I always was."  His son had had a loving father figure, had grown up to have children of his own, had apparently been very happy, and for all that, Jakal was glad.  He was also glad that Tia had bound happiness and a man who could be there for her.

            It was obvious to him now that he no longer had a true place with either of them beyond the Western Gate, he would feel like an intruding stranger on their lives.  Perhaps, he _should_ move on, like Tia, Bastet, and Zarg had suggested many times each.

            Could he do that though?

            After so long removing himself from his feelings for Nefertina, sometimes doing so ferociously, could he change?  Could he be worthy for her after so long?

            He was not sure.

End Ch 4

How was this latest installment?  Was my little jaunt into Jakal's mind and thoughts effective for setting up a relationship?  Please tell me what you think.

Bastet was added to this chapter because she is the goddess of love, fertility, procreation, childbirth, etc. and because a dynamic force was needed to get Jakal into action and introduce Tia for obvious reasons.  It's not over yet though, there is plenty of heartache and hurt ahead.

See ya next time.


	7. Nefertina

Old Gods

Ch. 5: Nefertina

Author, rating, and disclaimer are the same as in every chapter before this.

          Tears burned the back of her throat but this time she refused to give way to the bitter tide threatening to pull her under its dark waves.  She had been crying far too much of late whatever her reasons may be or how valid.

          She hurt.  It enveloped her in its blood-red shroud and would not release her from its choking hold, making her battle against tears all the harder for when she shifted slightly in her prone position, pain gripped her hard to the point she wanted to cry out in anguish.  No part of her had escaped injury it seemed.  The pain was ever there, ever flaring whenever she moved, ever reminding her of her failure that nearly cost Presley his soul.

          What had she done?

          If only she'd been stronger, if only she'd been braver, Papa would never have gotten his hands on the prince.  Presley should never have been entrusted to her alone…

          _And Jakal… By Bastet, he must despise me.  They all must despise me._

_          How can I be so stupid?  Who am I kidding?  It's because I **am** stupid.  And weak, and a coward… Papa's right.  Everything he says is right._

From somewhere, the low thrum of male voices drifted through the dark, cloudy haze of her sleep.  At fist, she couldn't distinguish one voice from the other or even words, it all sounded like background voices she might be hearing through a wall.  Who…?

          The voices leisurely solidified into two very familiar men, both of whom she did not understand in the least how they were so near.  It sounded like Jakal and Zarg arguing but why where they so close?  She was in her sarcophagus, wasn't she?  There was nowhere else they would have stuck her too keep her out of the way.  So why did Jakal and Zarg sound like they were only a few feet away in the same room as her?  And what were they arguing about?

          She hovered closer to complete lucidity but only so much that only a few words penetrated the fog.  Even though many words were not heard or garbled, she was not fooling herself that she might have misunderstood anything.  To her it all ran together.

          "I don't love Nefertina… I love my wife."  
          That was Jakal's voice, she could recognize the strong, enthralling tenor of her leader anywhere but now it brought only pain as sharp as any of her wounds.  Zarg's answering comment was lost in the haze but she was sure he was agreeing.

          "I'm not going to betray my wife.  I don't care… I'll never love Nefertina…"

          Whatever else he said was lost as pain tore through her heart, squeezing the breath from her lungs like a vice.  She wanted to cry.  As she plunged deep into unconsciousness once again, her heart shattered and began to bleed.

          When next she hovered on the brink of waking, someone was sitting next to her.  Sitting?  She wasn't in her sarcophagus?  Where was she then?

          That someone sitting beside her gripped her hand and made her distinctly more away of her surroundings.  Something and soft and yielding lay under her while a heavy, soft blanket was draped over her.  She was in a bed?  Where was there a bed in the Sphinx?  Why was she even put in a bed?

          Where was she?

          Nefertina fought the welcoming, blessed darkness of forgetful sleep to open her eyes and quench her suddenly burning desire to discover her whereabouts and to figure out who was next to her.  She barely managed so weak was she and so strong the pull of sleep yet her eyes obeyed her wishes and opened, if only a bit.

          A face swam in front of her blurred vision.  Auburn hair framed a tanned visage holding startling green eyes.  Presley?  Zarg?

          No, it wasn't Presley, the hair was too long and the features were too fine to be Zarg's with his handsome, masculine looks.  Who was this?  …A woman?

          The charioteer blinked― Gods, even that hurt― her vision focused on her surroundings and the woman holding her hand came into stark distinction.  _Lady Amanda!_  She was the one sitting here and holding her hand?  Where had she come from?  Why was she even here?

          Swallowing thickly against the lump in her throat that constantly threatened tears, she tried to speak, to question this woman who should not be here but all she managed through dry, cracked lips was a pitiful sounding moan.  Gods, how must she look, lying here whimpering?

          "Don't try to talk, dear," Presley's mother said quietly, "you need to save you strength and rest more."

          Rest?  Hadn't she rested enough already?  She needed to be up and doing her duty, try to do better than last time.  Not that Jakal was likely to trust her again after that disaster.  Who could blame him?

          Thinking of Jakal brought back the words she'd overheard earlier and all the pain that came with it.  He hated her.  He made that indisputably clear with his announcement.  She knew it already, had known it all along, it should not have come as a shock…so why did it still feel like she was being torn in twain?  How can her heart feel like its being shattered every time the words came?

          **_I'll never love Nefertina!_**

_          He hates me…_

          She slipped deep into an unwanted slumber with those hated words echoing through her tormented mind.  

          Her dreams this time were not the safe, hazy, darkness-enshrouded fogs of forgetfulness that marked her earlier sleep.  These dreams were dark still but not safe, far from safe; she relived every time she had ever felt her father's wrath, every time she felt Jakal's anger and disappointment burning in them like pyres.  Every time Papa's fist hit her like a battering ram, every time Jakal's upraised voice descended upon her like a wave, she relived them all.  The memories blurred, overlapped, merged, going at such speeds and in such rapid succession she could no longer tell one from another.

          Through it all she huddled in on herself, wanting to block her ears to everything Jakal had said that last, awful memory.

          He'll never love her.  _Never._  She was a stupid, selfish fool for daring to ever hope for such a thing as love.  How could he ever love her?  Nefertina had heard him clearly enough say he loved wife, as he should.  He was always so honourable, so true, so loyal, it was one of the things she will always love about him.

          She couldn't believe she was so selfish to want his love when he was a married man and still in love with Tia.  There was never a man more devoted than he.  

          Never was there a more terrible, loathsome, longing creature than she for wanting him and his love.

          There'll never be love for her.  There never should be.  Not from him, not from anyone.  None could love such a wretched creature as her, Papa had always said as much but before she heard Jakal confirm it, she had never wanted or thought to believe it.  Forsooth, now there could be no denying it.  She truly was a most hideous beast.

          Nefertina was destined to never have her feelings returned.

          It made her heart bleed, such thoughts as these, made her heart bleed all the more for being true.  Painstakingly, unquestionably, relentlessly, unendingly true.  

          And still she loved him.

          She loved him with all her heart.  With all her soul.  Every fiber of her being begged the gods that Jakal would one day return even a small shadow of what she felt though she knew now it could never be.  It _would_ never be.

          And after her almost fatal attempt at protecting the prince, even their friendship― which she valued above everything― was too much for her to hope for or ask.  

          Speeding back to the morning she and Rapses were taken by Khalset, her mind conjured up how terrified Jakal must have been for the prince's safety and how furious he must have been at her failure.  She could barely even remember much of that time, her memories were fogged over with agony and shame.

          She had been unable to protect the prince; the hunter would never be able to forgive her for that.  Overwhelming and paralyzing pain should never have mattered, just as _she_ should never have mattered when her duty called.  How can she be so selfish!?

          _Is this how a royal guardian is supposed to act, daughter?  _Papa's voice from that time reverberated in her ears.  _You sniveling little coward!  You aren't even of your duties, are you?  Hasn't being in Pharaoh's service taught you anything?_  He'd backhanded her heavily then and she remembered falling to her knees, gazing up at him in tearful misery.  He'd only snarled.  _What is this!  Whimpering?  Useless little bitch!  Coward!  Whelp! _ She was hit again and mercifully blacked out.

          Everything he said was true!  She _was_ a sniveling coward, she was useless, she was everything he claimed and more.  Was it any wonder then that Jakal hated her when even Papa couldn't stand the sight of her?

          Images blurred and shifted and she was atop the cliff again fighting the man who tormented her only to hear Jakal's voice mocking her this time.  Jakal that ridiculed her love as detestable, unwanted, unneeded, worthless.  He could never love one such as her.

          Nefertina began to sob.

          There was no reason to, she already knew it was all true but it still hurt like a spear twisting in her heart, wrenching the anguished cries from her breast in large, air-gulping heaves that made her ribs scream in torture.

          She came sharply back to waking― she had never realized she had fallen asleep― when someone cupped her face in tender hands and urgently called her name.  Utter and final despair tore through her like an icy gale at the sound.  She knew that voice, knew its deep, strong, beautiful, reassuring timbre as well as her own.

          _Oh, Bastet, no,_ she thought upon opening her weeping eyes,_ not Jakal._

          It was.

Sorry this took so long but was it worth the wait?  Was the self-resentment and loathing done well (as well as this sort of thing can be done)?

Are you interested in what will happen between these two will say or what they may find out?  Please send lots of reviews!

Miss Lizz


	8. both

Old Gods

Chapter 6: Confrontation

Author, rating, disclaimer: ditto

          For an instant, two pairs of very different eyes met and held in a spell neither could turn away from, one concerned and blue as the sky in deep summer, the other discomposed and gray as storm clouds threatening rain.  When the rain began to fall, the spell was broken.

          Wiping at her tears with the pads of his thumbs, Jakal discovered this only made it― whatever _it_ was― all the more worse.  

          "Why are you crying?"  He quietly asked while continuing to blot her free-flowing tears.

          All the answer he received was a widening of gray eyes and a sharply indrawn breath.  She was frightened… What was she frightened of?  Her nightmare?  Was she in pain?

          Her eyes had not moved from his since they had flown open in terror.  That terror had yet to dissipate and still shone bright as ever, brighter still for her tears and emotions.  Fear, despair, hopelessness, and some emotion he had never seen before, but knew these were not the emotions he wanted to see her suffer through.  She deserved so much better.

          He had seen these feelings before, many times over the years, but had never put stock into them the way he should have.  They had been present in the background of her eyes for as long as he'd known her but had never thought of it, had forced himself not to notice.  What a cad he'd been.  What a fool!  He never even took enough notice to wonder why she was afraid or of what.  He never looked deeply before.

          Now he did and he didn't like seeing her look so vulnerable.

          "W-why are you here?"  Nefertina asked him in a weak, quavering voice.  She looked even more fearful than before if such was possible.

          Jakal paused, stumbling over his words, unsure of what to tell her of his startling realization after Bastet and Tia had left him on that cliff-top.  The felling still amazed him and he'd had two days to examine it until there was no way he could now deny his feeling concerning the charioteer.  Zarg had been right…

          "I―" he began but stopped when he realized he wasn't sure _what_ to tell her. "I… came in to sit with you… How are you feeling?"

          The look of disbelief that crossed her face was hidden a moment later when she averted her face and rolled to her side, giving him her back.  He couldn't have imagined the grimace of pain that she tried to hide, could he?  She was in pain.

          When he touched her shoulder, she finally spoke, in a soft voice threatening to break.  "No, you didn't, you don't have reason to… And you don't have to keep pretending…"

          "Pretending what?" He asked when she did not continue.

          It sounded like she sobbed or possibly sighed.  "Pretending to care.  Just punish me and get it over with so you don't have to stay near me.  I know you don't want to… I understand."

          He could only stare at her.  She expected a punishment?  When had he ever punished her?  Why was she expecting one?  Yet she was, even as he watched, she tensed her body causing his eyes to go wide when he understood what she meant by punish.

          _Oh Horus, she's expecting me to hit her._

          It was the only reason he could fathom for why she would tense up like she had.  Why?  He wasn't her bastard father who only knew how to cause pain; he would never stoop to hurting her.  _Ever._

          Leaning forward, brushing silken, white hair from her temple, he whispered, "You'll never have anything to fear from me, Nefertina, _ever_," and gently kissed her.  A chaste kiss, no more than a peck on the cheek by anyone's standards but it was all he would dare until he was aware of her feelings on the matter.

          Her feelings were chaotic, roiling worse than the ocean during a storm, causing her chest to tighten painfully.  What was doing here if not to finally scream at her incompetence?  He didn't have to try to care for her sake, she knew how distasteful that must be to him and wouldn't wish it on anyone.  She barely heard what he said to her, swept away in the flood of feelings she should not be having as his warm breath tickled past her ear.

          He kissed her!

          Her eyes snapped open in something akin to panic and she looked at him quickly to convince herself she had just imagined it but alas, it was real.  Panic turned to despair, surely he would never deign to touch her unless he had an ulterior motive but Jakal was never anything but honestly straightforward.  

          "I would never hurt you and I'll never let anyone else hurt you as long as I live."

          His quiet words shocked her into silence and sent warmth coursing through her limbs and, absurdly, she felt tears threatening to spill over again.  It should not be, she _knew_ hated her but his protectiveness was more than she ever hoped for, all she ever thought she might one day receive.  But it was too much to hope for, she knew.  It was some sort of trick or a dream thought she knew she was wide-awake.  That only left a trick.

          Could he be so cruel?

          A terrible thought occurred to her then.  He knew.  He knew and he was doing this to taunt her, to toy viciously with her heart.  That was the epitome of cruelty.  A cruelty she would never have thought him capable of.  

          "Why are you doing this?"  She finally sobbed, wanting it to end.  "I'm sorry… whatever it is I've done, I'm sorry.  Just scream at me and leave."

          "I'm not going to upbraid you when you've done nothing wrong and I don't understand what I'm doing to upset you.  Please tell me so I can stop, I don't want to see you hurting like this."  The look in his eyes was ore than she could understand, different from how he'd looked at her before.  "…I don't _like_ seeing you hurting."

          She could barely see thought her tears by now and her chest and belly had tightened to a sharp ach that echoed her torn heart.  Why did he have to be so cruel?  Why did he have to be so kind?  He was supposed to hate her, not make feel cared for.

          "No…" she began sobbing, "This is some sort of trick or- or a dream.  It's not true, it can't be.  You hate me; you even said so.  Why are you here?  Why are you acting like you care?  I'm not so stupid that I can't tell when someone despises me…"

          Jakal looked shocked by what she said but she couldn't look at him anymore, not with the way he was being so nice and how he kept melting whatever resistance she could come up with.  It wasn't fair.  How could she still love him when he hated her?

          She closed her eyes and waited for either his anger or his disdain, not knowing if she would be able to take it, but to her surprise, she felt her shoulders gripped as he turned her to facing him.  Opening her eyes, she caught a glimpse of a fierce emotion she didn't recognize in his blazing eyes before his head leaned down to hers.

          She parted her lips to speak, to ask him what he was doing but no sound could come before his intentions were made startling clear.

End Chapter 6.

Please review and tell me what you think.  Thank you all for your support thus far and for the future.  Thank you.


	9. I love you

Old Gods

Chapter 7: I Love You

Author: Miss Lizz

Rating: R to be on the safe side

Disclaimer: See first chapter.  

Note: Beware extreme emotionalism and romantic drivel ahead.  I apologize for this in advance.

          It was a real kiss, long, slow, and lingering this time.

          It was wonderful, her lips as soft and sweet as he thought they would be, gently yielding beneath his.

          It was breathtakingly torturous.

          It was a risk.  There was every chance she would pull away from him.  Every chance he was going too fast but it was the only best method he could come up with to convince her he did not despise her.  His words so far had proved nothing to her, it was even doubtful she would believe him if he simply told her the full truth.

          That he loved her.  That she meant more to him than anyone had ever realized.  It had taken the goddess of love and more than a little coaxing from his remarried wife to make him realize and finally admit it to himself.  

          For a moment, as her hands crept up to his shoulder, he feared she was going to push him away and indeed he was going to pull away at the first sign of resistance.  Her small hands, however, did not stay at his shoulders, moving to the nape of his neck as she tentatively began to return the kiss, her innocence making itself blatantly known.  When he felt her sigh into his mouth, he deepened their embrace, delving his tongue into the honeyed, heated interior of her mouth, feather-light at first but gaining boldness and depth with each thundering heartbeat.

          When the kiss was finally broken and he slowly, regretfully pulled away, Nefertina opened her eyes and looked dazedly up at him.  She blinked slowly and deeply sighed.

          "What― Why― That was― Why did you kiss me?"  Her voice was deeper that usual, more of a husky whisper that caused him to smile warmly.

          She had enjoyed that kiss.

          "Because you're a very beautiful woman with the warmest heart and kindest soul I've ever seen and because a man _should_ kiss the woman he loves."

          Nefertina blinked again more quickly, the dazed look was gone now. "What?"

          He smiled down at her.  "I love you, Nefertina."

          Something flared high and bright in her stormy eyes for less than a heartbeat before dying, being replaced by the old hurts.  "Lying was never your strong point, Jakal, don't start now."  He opened his mouth to speak, to deny what she was going to say, but her fingers upon his lips stopped him.  "Don't.  Please…I'm not going to pretend to understand why you're doing this but I want you to stop.  You don't love me, you never will.  You love Tia.  I… I heard you talking to Zarg earlier and I heard everything you said.  So just stop this!  Please."

          Jakal sighed but did not relinquish his hold on her.  "That was two days ago, a lot can happen.  A lot did happen… I've had a lot of time to think about that conversation and the ones I had later with Bastet and Tia… I _do_ love you, I'm just ashamed it took someone else to make me recognize these feelings."

          "You had a conversation with Bastet?  _The_ Bastet?  Goddess of love?  Oh, gods, no."  She moaned this in absolute dejectedness. "And you talked to your wife, too.  You know now, you have to.  She probably told you."  Nefertina covered her face with her hands and tried to roll away from him again but he would have none of that.

          "Yes, I talked with both of them and they both made me face things I was afraid to because of a loyalty that did not exist anymore, that I no longer have.  Tia isn't my wife anymore, she hasn't been for a long time now…" What he supposed to say to make her believe?  Why was she fighting so hard against this?  "What am I supposed to know now?" He asked suddenly, catching her off-guard.

          "Bastet must have told you…" Nefertina said in wide-eyed terror, "She _must_ have."

          "Told me what?" He was pressing her, yes, but he needed to know what her babbling truly meant.  "Please tell me."

          She closed her eyes and sighed deeply before looking back to him, "Bastet must have told that I love you―"

          Jakal eyes widened hugely.  She… what?  Nefertina loved him?  When had this happened?  How had he not noticed?  He knew how, he'd had his head bowed too low into his own misery to give her the time of day… If only he could have realized everything sooner.

          "―that I've loved you since I first met you but was never allowed to tell you…" She drew in a shuddering breath, "I… appreciate that you're trying to let me off gently but you don't have to… I'll even leave if you feel I should but I want you to know first, I would never have allowed my feelings to get in the way of our work.  Or our friendship."

          Pressing his leps into a thin line, narrowing his eyes sadly, the hunter stared at her in mute, worried bemusement, unable for long moments to grasp what the beautiful little charioteer had just stated… That she loved him, that she didn't believe _he_ loved her, that she might leave―

          _Leave?_

          He puled her to him, into his arms― no, into his heart―  flush against his chest, quickly when the threatened desertion crashed through his mute wall of bewiderment.  "No," he whispered hoarsely, "please don't leave.  Don't ever think of leaving.  I'm not trying to let you off, gently or otherwise." He was babbling, something he had never done before, something very unlike him but as he sat there holding her, pleading gently, breathing in the scent of her hair, he did not care.

          "I love you, please believe that.  You know I would never lie about anything llike this, especially where you're concerned," he urged, raising his head to look at her face.  "I've had two days after Zarg pointed it out to analyze what I've been feeling for you for the past two years and I'll say this now… Love has never hit me so hard as it has with you.  Not even Tia stirred me the way you do.  It's like comparing a firefly to a phoenix…"

          Jakal sealed his lips over hers again when he was certain she was going to protest that he was lying.  It raged fiercer than the last, shattering in its intensity, overwhelming in its power… surely she know he wouldn't kiss her like this if he still pined for Tia.  Innocent or no, she must grasp that this was not the embrace of a man in love with someone else, she_ must_.

          It was more difficult than ever to pull away from this kiss, near impossible when all he wanted was to kiss her until she forgot her doubts, her fears, her uncertainties, and she simply accepted.  With great effort, more force of will than he thought he possessed, he broke contact with her mouth to look down at her, half-fearing that she would protest his love.  She surprised him yet again.

          "Y-you're not… joking." Her half-lidded gray eyes struggled to fully focus on his face.  More statement than question, it lifted his spirits immeasurably.

          He smiled, "No joke."

          "You love me."

          His smile got broader, "With all my heart and soul." 

          "And I love you."  She stared up into his eyes.

          "Gods, I hope so."

          A slow smile wreathed her face.  "Then would you mind kissing me again?"

End chapter  7.

I hope you enjoyed this.  I know not when the next will come but it may be soon.  Please send many reviews.


	10. different facets

Old Gods

Chapter 8: Different Facets

Rating: R

Disclaimer: Only the gods of war are mine, everything else belongs to DIC.

            It was before dawn, not even a hint of lightening in the sky to let the world know that dawn was steadily on her way to end the night.  The darkness was his favourite time of day.  After so many years― decades, centuries, millennia― in a cold, dank, living tomb, the darkness soothed him when his thoughts were awhirl or his ancient blood boiled in rage.  

            Now, the darkness did little to console him.  Four days ago he had been defeated once again.  Once again he'd been forced to retreat with his tail tucked between his legs, once again vowing revenge.  It was becoming an endless dance of plan, attack, and defeat with nothing in sight to ease his way.  

            He was tired.  Tired of the struggle to snare what was always so tantalizingly near his grasp.  Weary of this hollow existence… but he couldn't stop just like that, not now after so long.  This had been his life for so long, he knew of not other way to live.  It was his lot in existence, this never-ending infinity of a hollow need for something he was forgetting the reason for pursuing.

            It was almost his this time.  That elusive spark of life was in his actual hands.  All his hopes and dreams were being realized like a candle flickering to brightness on a moonless eve only to be snuffed out by the cruel winds of fate!

            The hunter had been as enraged as a wounded animal that night but had only uttered a sound as so much a snarl.  It was a frightening sight, to see a man so devastatingly furious, to see _this_ man who before that night, he'd never seen truly angry.  The prince had little to do with this fury.  This fury was not even directly focused on Scarab for all he had done.  

            It was Khalset.

            A muttered curse from behind drew the old sorcerer from his reverie of the days past, drawing his gaze from the graying pastel streaks of dawn to the hunched, hulking figure in the shadows.

            Graying eyebrows arched upward in surprise.  "Well, well, on your feet after only four days?  I am truly impressed." He paused before adding in a lower tone, "I would have thought being shot in the back by your own flesh and blood would take more out of a man."

            The other man glowered at him darkly, a low growl rumbling gutturally in his barrel-like chest, onyx-black eyes glinting brightly with the rage that was always there below the surface.

            "I should have snapped the little bitch's neck before tossing her off the cliff… I'll know better next time."

            Scarab smiled. "Ah.  A man who learns from his mistakes, I knew I would like you."

            Many hours later, it was near noon, Scarab could think of no way to lure the mummies, Gods of War, or Rapses out into the open, into his hands.  It was usually best to strike as soon as possible after a battle when his enemies strengths were weakened, but his own strengths were considerably decreased thanks to the guardians and Gods of War suddenly joining forces and destroying most of his array of Shabtis and with Khalset― his current ace in this game― rather severely injured, it simply would not be wise to carry out an assault at this present time.

            He didn't know what to do.

            It had never happened to him before.  A lack of ideas was as alien to him as- as breathing air is to a fish!  How could he not think of anything!?  

            "Problems, boss?"  Heka's slithery, wispy voice questioned from the serpent's curled position on the edge of his desk.  She had been watching him curiously for the past hour.  It was a habit she had picked up over the centuries and he no longer really paid much heed to it.

            "Whatever gave you that idea, my dear?"  Scarab sneered, his voice heavily laden with sarcasm and even disgust.  A low growl escaped his clenched teeth a moment later as his fist impacted with the armrest of his chair.  "I can't think of anything!  No plans, no schemes, no ideas whatsoever!  My mind is dry.  I don't know what to do…" He trailed off, slumping down in his chair in angry grumbling.

            She cocked a non-existent, golden brow at his manner.  It was surly and sullen, no real surprise there, but he was almost depressed about it all though she could understand that.  A lack of ideas for him must be a rare, frightening occurrence.  If he could just learn to relax and let the ideas come, he wouldn't be so stressed all the time.

            Nothing was said to him though, for fear of her life.  She simply coiled herself up again and continued to watch him, thinking back to the good times they'd shared, before his quest for immortality became all encompassing.  When he had been a young man still trying to grasp and control his powers and she had just come into his possession, they'd had marvelous fun then.  He gave her a freedom her previous masters had never allowed for fear of her revolt and she became acquainted with his kindness… a kindness he no longer showed much if at all.  The changes the young man she first knew had gone through to become what he was today saddened her mightily.

            If only she could get through to him how boring and grief-stricken immortality could be.

            Heka shifted her attention from her brooding master to the doorway, thinking she heard something.  Her crimson eyes narrowed in disgust when she saw who it was…

            Khalset.

            She was no longer denying it, not after she witnessed how he treated his daughter― or anyone else for that matter― she despised the man.  The over-muscled monster gave her the creeps and evoked great amounts of disgust and hatred from her.  If ever there was one who deserved to have Am-mit devour his wretched soul, it was Khalset.

            While she held not great feelings either way about the young charioteer, being a creature of magic, created to be a tool, she was neither good nor evil.  But she was made with the ability to learn and she had learned much over the tens of millennia she had been living and she had developed her own free will.  She did not necessarily like or dislike any of the mummies but she couldn't help but feel outraged at the way Khalset treated his own blood.

            _If I'd ever been blessed with young of my own, they'd be my whole world.  This brute has never earned the right to be called 'father.'_

            Khalset and Scarab were deep in conversation about a plan that had apparently just come into the brute's thick head.  She listened in for a few minutes and felt herself pale as the implications of what this plan would bring forth sank in.  This would bring only more death and destruction if used.  If Scarab agreed to this, she wanted no part in it.

            She might even walk out on him this time.

            Could she do that?  It was one of the mage laws for her to find a new sorcerer after her previous owner was dead and she had spent a lifetime with him or her already.  She had already been with Scarab over three thousand years.  By all rights, she was free to go anytime she wished, her contract being up with the ending of one lifetime.

            But where would she go?  Magic had lost its grip on this world long ago and she had no place beyond the Gate being unable to die and not being a deity of some sort.  But she was nearly as powerful as one, possessing powers Scarab had never guessed at.  No one knew of her powers, she had never made mention of them, they were her secrets to keep.  Perhaps one day she would use them.

            "You know, Khalset, I believe I like this plan of yours.  With some fine-tuning by the both of us, it just might work." Scarab's voice drew her from hr thoughts and she felt her stomach drop.  "Come, I believe," he groaned slightly when he pushed himself out of the chair, "that a drink is in order…"

            Silent, not wanting to draw attention to herself, Heka watched the two men stride almost gleefully from the room with a sinking feeling in her heart.  When had the young man who taught her to feel and think for herself become this cruel, gnarled monster she no longer recognized?

            This could spell the end to them all.  And those poor children… the little prince and his little guardian… Gods help them.

End.

Another twist in the fabric of this story, another chapter finished.  Hopefully leading to better things for all, more finality on things.  This chapter wrote itself once Heka was included.

It is my belief that magic is both and neither good and/or evil.  Heka is a magical creature/object/tool with abilities no one knows about and isn't necessarily good or evil, she simply responds to her master's output.  Okay, that's all.

Thanks for reading.  Till next time.


	11. Interlude

Old Gods

Chapter 9: Interlude

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The characters of Mummies Alive! are properties of DIC entertainment, the gods of war are mine.

Sorry it took so long on this, I got stuck on this chapter and school had taken precedence at the time (it couldn't be helped).

          It was late in the evening, dusk was settling its gray cloak over the city, when Amanda leaned back in her chair and stretched, yawning hugely in her exhaustion.  She should be used to these long days by now but she wasn't and as she got older, the days felt like they lengthened but still never gave her enough time to get everything done.

          Strange how time worked out like that.

          She locked her office and walked down the hallways, fumbling in her purse for her car keys to leave but stopping in front of the Egyptian exhibit when she decided to pay a visit to her son's 'guardians.'  

          They fascinated her and even frightened her at times, with their anachronistic ways and strange habits, not to mention their outward appearances, how their blue skin, yellowed bandages, and ornamental garments made them look almost demonic, but they had so far proven themselves to be virtuous individuals.  When Presley first took her to meet them, she was unbelieving that they could exist but those feelings quickly changed to shocked, irrevocable acceptance that sent her crashing to the floor. 

          Even five days later she was still having trouble making her scientific mind fathom that magick existed and that it's brought four mummies back to life when, by all rights, they should never been able to be revived at all no matter what was done to them.  As odd as it sounds, she was having no problems believing and accepting the guardians for what they appeared to be.  They had proven themselves to be kind, rather polite, amusing at times, but they were inherently good people and cared deeply for Presley, openly willing to sacrifice themselves for him.  

          Not that she had anything against the three men she had gotten a chance to meet and speak with or the three more normal-looking men once she recovered from her fainting spell.  They were all very nice men, very polite to her but their conversations had always seemed strained, unfocused, distracted by a pervasive worry even she was not immune to.  She knew their worry, had felt it herself every time her son was overly late or came home injured and had felt it when she was first told by Presley that one of his 'guardians' had been viciously beaten and had felt it even more strongly when she saw the young girl lying unconscious on a cot.

          When she first walked into that darkened chamber and saw her still body a strong mother instinct came rushing to the fore.  It was to be expected she supposed, any mother would feel protective of an injured child and the girl was only a year or two older than her son.

          It was a happier atmosphere she walked in to than any she had witnessed these past few days.  She wondered at the change in temperament.  

          Until, that is, she entered fully into the sitting room and saw the small, white-haired figure of the one guardian she had not spoken with sitting on the stone slab they called a couch, talking warmly with Zarg, Moranhk, and, surprising to her, Presley while Jakal sat quietly beside the girl.  

          She was awake, that certainly explained why her son was here instead of home doing his homework like he was supposed to be.

          "Hey, Mom." Presley had noticed her in the doorway and smiled sheepishly at being caught here instead of home.

          The other men greeted her casually, having become fairly use to her over the days she had been showing up here or they at her home, office, or anywhere Presley was.  Nefertina simply looked startled that she was here, though that was understandable; the girl had been sleeping for the past several days.

          "Hello boys," she smiled. "Hello, Nefertina, are you feeling better?"

          Nefertina blinked in confusion, "Um… a little, yes."  She passed an imploring look at Jakal and then at Presley.  It was obvious she didn't remember waking up when Amanda was there with her.

          "I told her," Presley said quietly, "don't worry."

          Moranhk stood, towering over them, a true giant of a man, and left the room after excusing himself.  Because of his sheer size and general silence, he was the one that made her most uneasy when she first met him and he still did on occasion, being hard to get to know.  But then it had only been five days; she was still getting to know all of them.

          "So… what brings you down here, Mom?"

          "I was curious how everyone was doing.  Now, I'm glad I did pop in, it would have been quite a shock to go home and not find you there doing your homework."  She folded her arms and arched an eyebrow at him, pleased that he at least had the decency to look sheepish.

          Unable to help it, Jakal smiled at the prince's chagrined expression, finding it amusing to see it used on other people and knowing all too well a plaintive whine was going to come.

          "Aww, Mom."

          He knew it.  He had heard something similar several times over the years, directed at both himself and the other guardians.  It was a habit the fourteen-year-old had yet to grow out of, but was one of the characteristics that could be endearing if not taken to the extreme where it simply became annoying.

          Smiling slightly at the familiar discussion between the prince and his mother, Jakal pulled his love closer against his side, reveling in the warm smile she bestowed upon him.  With her bruises almost faded completely, she was looking more her normal, beautiful self but there were still remnants of pain deep in her stormy eyes that kept her more subdued than he had ever seen and he didn't like it.  He hated seeing her like this, fearing every shadow as if it held her tormenter, afraid to face her friends because of her tears.  

          _And Khalset is still out there… probably licking his wounds in Scarab's hideout until they come at us again.  I should have made sure he was dead, I should have made sure that arrow had gone straight through his blackened heart._

          Nefertina is still in danger, so is the prince… he pulled her closer in an unconscious embrace of protectiveness. 

          The hunter promised himself he would protect his newfound love form anymore harm, from any_one_ who sought to harm her ever again.  It was a promise unconsciously made on the rain-drenched cliff that fateful night, one he meant to uphold as strongly as his oath to the prince. 

End chapter 9.

Possibly one of the shortest chapters I've written but it was also one of the most halting ones as well. But I hoped it tides you over until the next, which has no set date for posting and is hardly even written yet. 


	12. Consumation

Old Gods

Chapter 12: Consummation

Rating: R for sexual content

Disclaimer: The characters of Mummies Alive! are properties of DIC Entertainment.  The Gods of War characters are my own invention.

Sorry this took so long.

This chapter, as the name suggests, will have sexual situations in it.  You have been warned.

          Another heavy bank of clouds rolled on their steady track inland from the vast sea, bringing the promise of more rain.  By the end, far more than rain would fall upon their heads.  A darksome blight was on the horizon, looming over them all in a great tension-causing miasma that caused already high stress levels to rise.  It was times when all they could do to not fight amongst themselves.  

          With three extra people now residing in the sphinx, space was limited when it came to finding time for oneself or time alone for a new love.  

          He pulled her closer against his side as they walked in the warm sand when he felt her slight shiver.  It was rather cool tonight, changing seasons bringing their customary chill to the dense air.  With winter surging ever closer toward them, reaching across the lands with its bony fingers, he had wanted to take her on a moonlit stroll along the beach before the coming cold prohibited such.  A nice romantic evening for just the two of them, the first time to truly be alone together in the two months they had been a couple.  The first romantic evening Nefertina had ever had he was shyly told.  It made it all the more special for the both of them.

          Tentatively her thin but muscular arms encircled his waist, bringing a tender smile to his features.  They were moving slowly along in their budding relationship, but the fulfilment of just being with the spunky charioteer was greater than any feeling he had ever experienced and he was not going to destroy this miracle by moving too quickly.  There was far too much at stake, there was far too much to lose.  He was not risking their love because his desire wanted her as his own. 

          He loved her, loved her with more depth than he would have believed possible just two months ago when he was forced into admitting to himself his then denied feelings for this beautiful, dynamic young woman beside him.  He wanted to keep her by his side for the rest of time.  A selfish part of him closer to the surface than he would like to admit wanted to keep her all to himself, away from any others where he could protect her and happily obsess over her in private.  It was that same part, along with most of his heart, mind, body and his very soul that simply wanted her, wanted to love her and keep her safe from all harm.

          _If only life were that simple…_ he thought in consternation and despair, unconsciously pulling her closer to his side as the first dull echo of thunder sounded in the distance.  

          Khalset and Scarab had yet to make a move, they had been suspiciously quiet since that night on the cliff― gods, he hated bringing up that memory of blood, sadness and rage― and he could only assume another foul scheme was being worked out and they were waiting until the peril was past.

          The risk was not likely to cool, not until Khalset was dead and Scarab could no longer threaten the prince.  It would be a long time before they could relax, any of them.  Bugger and blast it all.

          But one day that time would come, one day peace would come to their lives for perhaps the first time.  One day the evil would be felled from their lives.

          He would be among the first to celebrate the day Scarab fell.

          "Think we should head back?" Nefertina's voice broke through his thoughts just as a loud peal of thunder echoed across the heavens.  "Nut seems to be working herself into a powerful frenzy."

          He nodded, sparing only a glance at the coming storm, his gaze instead solely resting on the lovely young woman by his side.  "So it would seem.  Do you want to drive or shall I?"  He smiled as he said this, knowing she preferred to be the one driving.

          She paused in thought, lightly chewing on her lower lip, "You drive."

          Arching a black brow, he quirked his mouth to one side in a gentle smirk, "I'm honoured that you're giving up your driving privileges to me."

          Smiling up at him, Nefertina looked the most impish and breath-taking woman in the world, "Only for tonight.  Don't expect me to be so submissive all the time."

          Jakal laughed, "I wouldn't dream of it.  I love you just the way you are."

          "I love you, too," she said quietly, standing on tiptoe to lightly kiss him.

          The first drops of rain began to fall when they parted, drops that multiplied from a few to many very quickly. It was a hard rain and they became soaked through long before reaching the rock shelter the jetcycle had been left under earlier in the evening.

          Wiping the dripping water from his face, the lean archer stared out at the beating rain.  "Perhaps we should wait until the storm lightens before heading back.  It could be dangerous on the jetcycle."

          "Probably," Nefertina agreed with a smile as she wrung the water from her hair, "but that's never really stopped us before."

          "Tonight it is."

          He did not like the look of this storm; already he could not make out the lights of the city through the sheets of wind-driven rain.  It would be suicidal to travel in this weather and he was not going to risk their health or their lives to return to the Sphinx.  They could stay right here.

          Together, they sat in the seas of the overhang, as far from the wide opening as possible, their backs resting against the dark rock.  For warmth against the sudden chill that blew in from the Pacific they huddled together, wrapping their arms round each other.

          She was rather glad of the storm now.  It was not often that they had the luxury to be completely alone.  That this storm was allowing them to stay alone was a very good point in her mind.  After loving him from afar for so long and now to have that love returned more than she had before hoped to dream of, she wanted nothing more than to be alone with him forever, to love him forever.

          Leaning comfortably against his broad, warm chest Nefertina smiled into the rumbling dark, musing over the turn their relationship had taken those months before when she had blurted out that she loved him in a flood of bitter tears because she was certain he hated her.  Certain that Bastet had told him everything she had worked so hard to hide.  She had ignored for that moment that he had already confessed to loving her.  It had seemed some cruel joke to twist in her heart.

          But it had not been a joke.  He was deadly serious then.  He did love her.

          By gods, he loved her!  It made her heart leap and her stomach give a pleasant little flutter every time he said it or kissed her or melted her insides with a smile or a particularly smouldering look.  Just a month ago she would have never believed him capable of a smouldering look.  

          She was happy.  For the first time in her life she was truly happy.

          One last thing was all that was needed to complete her life and with no antagonistic movements from either Scarab or Khalset― she no longer thought of him as 'papa'― she had begun to idly wonder if she and Jakal were capable of having children.  Oh, she knew it was too soon in their relationship to really plan for them and that they should not have them until evil had been vanquished, but she did want them.  It was perfectly all right to fantasize about them.

          A fantasy may be all children will ever be for her.  With her love realized, she wondered if the two of them could actually produce any children.  

          "Is something troubling you?" Jakal's voice rumbled in his chest causing her to look at him.  Concern was clearly evident in his crystal blue eyes, touching deep her heart.

          Nefertina smiled up at him.  "Not really, just lost in thought."

          They dropped into silence, a comfortable silence that lapped gently about them as a pool.  They kissed, sometimes chastely, oftentimes as deeply and passionately as the ocean.  Jakal eventually pulled her into his lap to deepen the embrace and gain more comfortable access to her mouth, wrapping his strong arms around her just as she did the same.  She revelled in his touch, his taste, his smell and the feel of his lips on hers, as soft as his body was hard.  

          His tongue stole entry into her mouth causing her head to spin and her toes to curl delightedly in the sand.  Oh yes, she was definitely glad for the storm.

          It was a passionate kiss as were all their meetings, possessing a hunger and torridness difficult to ignore or calm.  Before, at the sphinx or wherever they happened to be, they had always erred on the caution's side.  Because of the lack of true privacy in the Sphinx, they were almost never alone together, but now they were and caution it seemed had retired for the evening.

          Jakal's strong hands made their slow, gentle way up her ribcage as their tongues duelled as fiercely as a battle but left them with sensations far more pleasing.  As one they moved, undressing each other, inwardly cursing the meters of bindings swathing their bodies as they did so.  It was a time-consuming process, so much so that by the time all barriers between the lovers had been removed, Nefertina could faintly hear Jakal's impatient growl deep in his throat.

          It was a growl that became a groan when she pulled his head down to kiss him again.

          "I ache for you," his groaned voice rumbled in his broad chest, "I burn for your touch, your taste…"

          Silently, the charioteer urged him and he gently heeded her.  The attentions he lavished upon parts of her body were so far beyond heavenly as to be rapturous in their intensity.  She moaned aloud her bliss when it came, his name slipping from her lips in a broken whisper.

          When she became aware of herself again, he was suddenly there kissing her, ravishing her mouth with the same intensity he had been paying the rest of her body just moments before, murmuring words of love and passion and desire as their bodies became one for the first time.  

          Pain came unto her when the flower of her innocence was plucked, a pain she was expecting to a degree but still found she was unprepared for it all the same.  It lasted but a short time before being overshadowed by far more pleasurable feelings that grew and expanded to encompass the whole of her being as they moved together in the ultimate dance of primal intimacy.

          Bliss swept them both this time, catching them in its rush and sending tremors of ecstasy coursing along their limbs while above them lightning slashed the heavens and thunder crashed upon the clouds as the storm reached its climax.

          The storm did not ease in its intensity for a long time that night.

End of chapter twelve.

I'm sorry this took so long to get out but it was a hard chapter to write and I had trouble overcoming a severe case of writer's block.  I hope ya'll enjoy this chapter and that it was written well enough.


	13. Quiet

Old Gods

Chapter 13: Quiet before the storm

I can't apologize enough for the tardiness of this update. No amount of writer's block (I could not for the life of me figure out what exactly Scarab's plan was), real life trials (college graduation and stuff I don't want to talk about), or wanting to get this just right can not excuse leaving a story for so long. I am so sorry to anyone who might be left reading this. There is only the hope that you find this chapter suitable. I'm sorry, guys.

>>>>>>

Nefertina woke slowly. Really, she almost did not want to. It felt so nice here, with Jakal's strong arms encircling her waist in a warm embrace and his warm breath brushing against the back of her neck. This was nice, sandy, but nice. She smiled in remembrance of the night's wonderful events, hardly able to believe the joy he brought into her life. There was so much love in her heart for him; it grew so every day to the point of bursting. Oh gods, she loved him.

"Nef, are you awake?" The warmth of his quiet voice tickled the hairs on the back of her neck and sent shivers down her spine despite the innocuous question. The slight chill in the night air did little to help the situation either.

She smiled, running a hand along his forearm where it lay just below her breasts. "Mm-hm, but I don't want to get up just yet," _I just want to stay here with you._

"Neither do I," he mumbled as he lightly kissed her neck and shoulder, "but dawn is already lighting the horizon and I _had_ promised Ikari I wouldn't keep you out too late…"

Her smile turned to a cheeky grin as she turned to face him. "Whoops."

He had an answering grin, "You say that now, Ikari's bound to kill us both."

"Don't forget the rest of the boys."

There was a widening of his grin as he shifted slightly in the hard sand. As one, they kissed then, slow and lingering and tasting of sleep, moving them closer to each other, pressing their bodies together as they woke and kindled fiery passions slumber had kept at bay. Passions the previous night had revealed with only the thunder and seas witness to the troth pledged and sealed between two souls and eternity.

For long moments they stayed in each other's arms, listening to the ocean crash against the rocky shoreline and feeling the sandy soil shift beneath their bodies as they lay enraptured of each other to the point where an earthquake could have torn California loose of the continent and neither would have noticed.

Inevitably, the long moment had to pass and Nefertina sighed, "Do we really have to go back?" She asked while snuggling against his pale, warm chest and wrapping her lean arms around his waist. All she wanted was to stay here with him, her love, her life.

"Yes, unfortunately, but we'll find time to be alone again later today. I promise you that," he punctuated this last with a kiss upon her brow. "Come on, we need to get dressed."

_Some things never change,_ she thought with a smile.

Dressing did not turn out to be the simple, straightforward approach she had at first been expecting as she discovered Jakal to be quite the impassioned lover so early in the morning. Neither retrieved their clothing until Ra was fully above the horizon and n his journey through the sky.

When they were both clothed after an exhaustive amount of time was spent re-bandaging themselves, Nefertina decided to herself that Jakal looked far too smug with masculine pride. She would have to do something about that later.

>>>

The Sphinx was silent when they slowly rumbled into the garage. Odd, but at this time of day there was always two or three, at the very least since the older warriors moved in, about the building making all sorts of noise and generally being quite loud. Hearty male laughter frequently rang throughout since the remaining Gods of War had begun living with them. This was strange.

"Think everyone's still asleep?" Nefertina asked as the lovers walked hand in hand into the empty lounge.

"Hm, perhaps, but it's rather late for that," Jakal answered. "Maybe they've gone out for the morning?"

"Yeah," she murmured, "sounds possible."

She wrapped her arms around his waist and embraced him, enjoying the quiet and peace, enjoying the feel of him. Her senses were filled with him, his clean, woodsy scent, the thud of his heart deep in his powerful chest, the way his arms tightened around her. Moving her arms along his broad back, she was mightily tempted to continue what they had begun on the beach.

But, then, of course, fate intervened.

"Where in the name of Horus have you been?" Rath's voice broke through the moment and caused the two to face as one the thin scribe. "Jakal, I'm shocked that you of all people would stay out all night. What if Scarab had attacked? As you said yourself, everyone needs to stay alert, and you can't do that very well on a 'date.' And another thing―"

"Calm down, Rath," Jakal interrupted, "we had the jetcycle with us. If Scarab had attacked, we would have gotten the same alarm as you and would have been able to get there just as quickly."

This seemed to take some of the wind out of the wizard's sails, but he was, as always, determined to get in the last word. "You still should have been in at a decent hour," he grumbled before disappearing back into the room he had emerged from.

>>>>>>

Scarab groaned quietly when he settled his old bones into his favourite over-stuffed leather chair before the darkened screen of his television set. Remote control firmly in hand, he turned the large box to coldly glowing life and began methodically flipping through the many channels trying to find something to watch.

He was trying to relax now, wanting nothing more than to recharge his energies in preparation of the coming days. Magic of the eldest world had to be thoroughly prepared for. It would be more suicidal than normal any other way.

It had taken six months to gather all the implements, ingredients, and rituals. Over two months had passed before he head even discovered the location of the tome in which the correct spell and binding was located. The old scroll, said to be written by Vainamöinen the Steadfast's own hand, was far older than even Scarab himself, older almost than he could imagine, and wielded a power so primordial the mere gazing upon their ancient runes could unleash some of their awesome power.

The scroll was a fragment of the elder days when the world was still young and everything in it as mercurial as opals, when primordial powers still walked openly and words themselves could form their subjects into creation. He did not know why the great enchanter had written such powerful words into eternal existence onto parchment, he did not overly care. All that mattered to him was that it would suit his purpose far better than anything he could have ever hoped for from the modern world.

Or at least, it had better fulfil the desires he put to it after he had gone to the hassle of tracking it to the ends of the earth.

But he had it in his possession now, thanks to his deductive and detective powers and Khalset's raw strength so he was certain he could get it to work. Tomorrow, everything, all his plans, would coalesce into vibrant, violent life. In the morning, it would all begin.

Now if only he could find Heka.

>>>>>>

Vainamöinen the Steadfast is a Finnish wizard existing back in the mists of humanity's beginning. He is similar to Taliesin, Gwydion and Math of Wales, Merlyn, Cathbad of Ireland, and many more of the great enchanters. He is spoken of in some detail in the first chapter of _Wizards and Witches_, a part of Time-Life's _The Enchanted World_ series of books from the 1980s. I'm taking some poetic license with his use and really hope I don't offend.


	14. Surprising allies

Old Gods

Chapter 14: Alliances and Expectations

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_I hate cold_, Heka thought miserably as she slithered down another narrow, filthy alleyway. She was a creature of hotter climes and sunny lands; this chilly, wet weather was not to her liking. Skulking through nasty back alleys was also not to her liking. She preferred warm sand. Now, she was unlikely to ever see the warmth and sun of her native Egypt.

She left him. And she doubted he had even noticed her gone yet.

In all her millennia of life, she had been a pawn, a tool in some conjuror's possession as nothing more than an enhancer to their own gifts. Her existence had been spent as a channel and key to unlock and focus another's energies.

Never again.

She was powerful in her own right, more powerful than any of her former masters ever gave her credit for and would have been more than capable of taking care of herself out in the world had she ever learned for herself how to properly control her powers. She needed proper teaching, something her old masters never bothered with. Why would they? She was merely a staff to them, no different than their scrolls or wands.

Heka was alone now, and she was miserable. She left him. She missed him.

Or, more accurately, she missed who he once was. Scarab had always seemed different from her other wielders and he had been for a long time after he first acquired her. It was not until power and immortality became his all-encompassing goal that he became just like all the others. Why did humans always wish for such things? Both led inevitably to heartache.

There was a time when she almost loved him, almost gave him her heart, but that had been long ago. He had been young and handsome and full of promise then. Watching the long centuries pass in that living tomb with only Scarab and his ever-growing madness had made her see things in a different light, and had given her time to think. It was all she could do in that dark, dusty crypt.

Heka realized now that she should have left him when the seal on the stone door was broken. It was something she knew now with hindsight. Gods, if only she had known then.

Now she was alone on the streets in the cold, wet San Francisco winter and had no idea where to find her destination. She felt it imperative that she find and warn the guardians of Scarab's latest scheme. There was a breaking point to everything and this last plan was hers. If he were allowed to see it through, the world would collapse into darkness and evil.

She had to get them to listen to her first for there was every possibility they would simply attack her as soon as they saw her. Given the bitter history between them, she really would not blame them.

Was there any way to approach the mummies safely? As a creature of pure, ancient magic her serpentine form was quite mutable. She had, in fact, on one occasion― quite by accident― managed to change into something that looked almost human. It had not lasted long for at her fright at suddenly finding herself bipedal, she had changed back to her favoured form an eye-blink later.

Idly, as she slithered farther down the alley towards what looked like a busy street, the serpent wondered if she could do the transformation again.

If she looked more human, it would speed her travels through the crowded streets and she would be able to ask for information and directions to guide her steps. It would also mean she would not be chased by either animal control or the police and people would not automatically run screaming from her.

Time was not on her side. She needed to find them and warn them of the disaster Scarab was bringing upon them.

So, she stilled all movement, curling into herself, and concentrated. After five minutes of nothing except the realization that she was hungry, Heka was just about to open her crimson eyes and struggle onwards when it happened. The change was quick, happening between one heartbeat and the next.

At first she was uncertain if anything had indeed happened until she opened her eyes and looked down.

_Wow_, she thought as she saw hands and arms, _her_ hands and arms, the same golden honey colour as her true form. It glistened slightly in the dim, dirty light. Thick black, braided hair spilled across her shoulders and a dark red dress shrouded her body as sandals covered her feet. She even had jewellery and other such decorations of gold, lapis lazuli, and azure adorning her form. It was a style of dress and ornamentation seen long ago in her native Egypt.

Unsteadily the cobra-turned-woman stood upon her new legs and took her first steps. She staggered drunkenly and fell gracelessly back against the damp brick of the building behind her.

_Hm, this is harder than the humans make it look_, she thought with a grunt of displeasure.

Hand braced against the wall to steady herself, she walked the length of the alleyway several times until she thought she could traverse the streets without the embarrassment of falling. However, upon stepping out into the light of the open streets, she was met with stares and whispers.

It was not, she assumed, an everyday occurrence for a golden-skinned woman to wander the streets. Even in San Francisco.

Another day passed before she spotted either the guardians or the old warriors. It was the youngest of the old Gods of War, Zarg, she found, stopped at a red light on the motorcycle he had taken that very first day he had gone out into the modern world.

"Zarg!" She shouted in relief, stumbling as she began running towards him. "Zarg, over here. I must speak with you."

The young looking man actually did a double take when he saw her.

"Whoa," she heard him mutter even over the roar of the bike's powerful engine. "Who are you?" He asked more loudly.

"I will tell you but please, I need to speak with _all_ of you."

Confusion and defensiveness shone in his green eyes and she mentally cursed herself. She might have just said the wrong thing. He could very well drive off and leave her now.

The angry bleating of a small, silver automobile and the impatient voice of its owner caused both of them to jump. Zarg flicked his alert gaze to it before resting it on her. She gulped despite herself.

"Hop on," he said simply, motioning behind him.

She complied quickly and soon found herself clutching his narrow waist for dear life as the motorcycle roared through the hilly streets at what must have been higher than posted speeds. She still could not believe her luck. He was taking her with him!

Until he took a turn and she felt like getting off. Or screaming. This was the first time she had ridden on one of these two-wheeled contraptions, and she most strenuously decided she did not like it.

When he went over a hill so fast the bike left the ground, she did scream.

>>>>>>>

Well, there's chapter 14, how'd you like it?

And I should have been doing this since day one (bad author!) but I would like to most deeply thank everyone who has ever read, reviewed, or even just looked at this story and smirked. It's one of the biggest reasons that I continue to write (when the evil that is writer's block stays at bay and the greater evil that is plot bunnies takes over). So, thank you and great big hugs to everyone.


	15. More surprises

_Old Gods_

Chapter 15

Rating: R

Disclaimer: No canon characters belong to me.

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Zarg brought the mysterious woman to the Sphinx, believing her to be no threat. She seemed too eager to speak with the group to be an enemy and he very well doubted any potential threat would seek out one of the warriors who guarded the prince in such a… friendly manner. It would be suicide.

Besides that, this woman was rather odd. The gold of her skin was real, not make-up or tattoo, to have flesh of such a hue usually occurred in the gods. Was this woman a goddess? Had the gods themselves chosen to intervene in this struggle? At the very least, a goddess would hardly be considered a threat to the prince's well-being.

It was a belief the mummy guardians did not seem to share.

The three currently in the Sphinx sprang to their feet at her entrance and took up defensive positions. She did not seem too surprised or insulted to witness their suspicious hostility, in truth only crossed her arms and stare at them with her reddened gaze.

Why would they react this way to a visiting goddess?

"We haven't had many good experiences with any deity of this time," Rath clarified in a much calmer tone of voice than his initial outburst of '_are you mad_!' "Most tend to side with Scarab, the rest try to kill us anyway."

"Why would they do that?" He had always thought the gods above such petty nonsense as one of that conjurer's schemes.

"They… are no longer the same as in our day. Time has changed them as surely as it changed the rest of the world," was all the answer given him as the thin scribe crossed his own arms and turned a distrustful eye to the woman.

Not far from them, no more than a half-dozen feet away, the woman in question glared at him. "I'm still here, you know, and I can hear you quite well… I am not a goddess." She paused then for a long thoughtful moment before speaking again, carefully choosing her words, "Nor am I in league with Scarab, not anymore."

Standing to her right side, acting as guard to make sure she could truly do no harm, Jakal bristled at her words. "Yet you were at one time? Why should we trust you?"

Seeming to ignore the reinforced suspicion arcing like electricity through the room, the woman-- Zarg now wished he had asked for her name-- continued on in her careful manner. What she said next could very well mean her survival…

"Scarab has gone mad. I've left him to warn all of you of his latest scheme. If he succeeds in this, this world will die. I want to help you defeat him."

The hunter stared at her, boring into her with the hard, steely gaze that could wring truth from anyone. The woman earned new admiration from him for returning the look with a stoic calm.

"Hey guys," called a familiar cheery voice from the entryway a moment before a smiling Nefertina walked happily into the tense room with Ikari trailing behind, shopping bags in his hand. The charioteer was dragged away hours ago by the Lady Amanda for a clothes-buying trip, the girl's uncle tagging along to both protect the two women and to spend time with his niece. It had been an unusual outing but her growing figure had necessitated such a thing.

Now, however, the two stopped short at the sight of a both a visitor and Jakal staring at each other in undisguised scrutiny and the overwhelming tension that engulfed all present. Said visitor had glanced over at their arrival for an instance before literally snapping her head around to gape. Though Ikari had stepped in front of his little niece, the gold woman's wide-eyed stare focused on Nefertina's obvious fecundity.

Turning to a still-glaring hunter, she then stated in a deadpan voice the likes of which he had never heard, "Took you long enough."

Jakal's glare turned incredulous as the woman arched an eyebrow at him. Zarg put a hand over his mouth to hide his smile while both Armon and Moranhk snorted in amusement.

"I beg your pardon," the archer stumbled out finally, no trace of amusement in his voice.

"You know us?" Nefertina asked at nearly the same time, stepping out from behind her uncle.

Choosing to ignore the annoyed man beside her, she instead turned to address the only other female in the room. "Yes, I know you, and you know me. Though, I'm sure you probably regret that. I've been a thorn in your sides for three years now… I regret it now, and apologize…" She paused, looking around the room one last time before sighing. "I'm Heka."

Silence met her pronouncement as a myriad of emotions rendered her audience speechless. Disbelief was the most common, occurring in everyone to some degree, anger was close by in the mummies however. Zarg only felt bewilderment.

_What? This woman must be mad as Bes, she doesn't even sound like Heka. Not really. The snake wasn't powerful enough to transform herself…_

"The cobra Scarab used as a staff?" Ikari proved the first to recover his voice, pulling his protesting niece back behind him out of instinct to shield her. "How is such a thing possible?"

Arching a fine, black eyebrow, Heka merely said, "Magic," and fluidly shifted her form into that of the familiar coiling form of a six-foot cobra. She cocked her head at them and grinned before just as fluidly turning back into the tall, strange woman.

Impatience, however, was showing through her demeanour. "Can we get on now? I came to warn you, not play twenty questions."

All present had seen transformations of this sort before, but it was still an unsettling thing to witness and hear as a body changed shape. It caused several minutes of shocked silence to envelop the room.

Jakal proved to be the first to recover this time. "Why did you betray Scarab then? What is so horrible about this particular plan?"

She sighed, looking back at the hunter and whatever emotion was in her stare seemed to surprise him. "Scarab's quest for power has… twisted him. The creature I left is no longer the man I once would have gone to the ends of the world for… That man died long ago," another sigh escaped her, a sheen of tears appearing in her eyes. "I wish I had seen it sooner…" Heka's voice was a barely above a whisper, an air of sad darkness draping across her form.

There was silence from her for long moments as she visibly struggled for composure before she could continue in a stronger, if tired, tone. "In two days, he will plunge this world forever into darkness and release the ancient hosts of the nocturne. The beasts he will unleash will rend this place and dance in its ruins… He and that brute Khalset must be stopped. I do not want this world to die."

A look of great horror writ upon his thin face, Rath stepped forward with a panicked energy racing through his frame. "There would be no world left for him to rule if the spell was successful. Why would he do such a thing?"

"He has gone mad," the serpent woman repeated slowly, as if speaking to a dullard. The scribe narrowed his green eyes and scowled at her.

Jakal spoke next, facing Heka though his blue gaze focused softly on the pregnant form of Nefertina, it was a sharp contrast to the steel in his voice. "What must we do?"

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End chapter 15


	16. Start

Old Gods

Chapter 16

Rating: R

Disclaimer: All characters herein, save those I created myself, are property of DIC Entertainment.

Thanks go to everyone who's reviewed and to everyone who's still out there reading this. You're the best, guys.

&&&&

Nefertina had gone to fetch the prince and his mother, Jakal going with her out of the simple need to stay with her, as the rest of their group girded themselves for battle. It was decided earlier to keep Presley and Amanda within the magically protected walls of the Sphinx until the conflict's end.

Tension laced the air as blades were sharpened and armour was donned. This forthcoming battle would be their last, and come hell or high water, Scarab would fall. The war had gone on too long as it was.

Heka readily divulged the location of the ritual place, in the great glass pyramid that served as Scarab's residence. It was learned shortly after the old warriors joined with the mummies that the unmistakable building was the lair of their nemesis and the guardians were largely unsurprised this would also be where they fought him for the last time.

Still, it was an unsettling prospect to face the blackguard in his own stronghold, his own territory, where all advantages would be his. It was the main reason he had not been stormed before now.

The immortal serpent had also returned to her coiling form insisting to be used as a staff by Ikari. She wanted to see the deed done but was still unsteady in her human body.

When asked why, she said merely, "It is time I move on," as the old sorcerer learned to focus his natural power through her. "And I like the feel of your aura."

&

Preparations were already completed when the last of their party and their two charges entered the Sphinx's garage. They were met there in order to hasten away and meet the enemy immediately.

"I don't get it," Presley began the moment he stepped out of the rumbling Hot-Ra, "why do Mom and me have to stay here? Home has always been safe enough… and why can't I go with you?"

He did not understand. There was as much right in him to fight against Scarab as any of the others. After interrogating Jakal and Nefertina, he knew they were expecting this to be the final battle. He wanted to fight as well. He needed to fight, to be certain, to see with his own eyes the mad sorcerer fall, to bother himself and the others no more.

"My prince," Rath approached him as, from the corner of his eye, he saw Jakal take Nefertina aside, "for your own safety, you must remain behind. You must also protect your mother… and Nefertina while she remains behind to guard you."

Before he could form a response to this- she had made no mention of staying behind and it was odd _they _ask _him _to protect one of his guardians, even the 4- ½ months pregnant charioteer- but said charioteer did some exclaiming of her own. It seemed they waited until now to tell her.

"You're leaving me behind?"

Wanting to see how this played out, the teenaged boy abandoned his own line of questioning and focused instead on the two lovers. He ignored Rath's grumbled statement that eavesdropping was rude.

"You're pregnant," Jakal stated, apparently thinking the obvious declaration would magically make the headstrong young woman acquiesce to his wishes.

"But not helpless," she countered, "I want- need to settle things with Khalset."

The hunter sighed. "I understand that, I do, but I also don't want to risk you or the baby getting hurt… Besides, someone has to stay and protect the prince and Lady Amanda." He smiled down at her then and pulled her into a loose hug, "I can't think of anyone more qualified than you for such a responsibility."

Her response to this was lost to Presley's ears as muffled as it was against her lover's chest. Although the throaty chuckled she was rewarded with as his head guardian pulled back to look down at her was clearly heard.

"Yes, I am. Is it working?"

She returned his smile and agreed to remain behind, promising not to let Presley out of her sight. They kissed then, softly and sweetly, as the prince wandered over to where his mother was speaking with Heka and Ikari.

The group left soon after, the suddenly tearful Nefertina having wrung promises from all of them to return. The three left behind watched them leave as the powerful vehicle roared from its confines, followed by an enthusiastic Zarg atop his Harley. Until the sounds of the engines faded into the day, they stood in the garage and prayed for the safe return of their friends.

Keeping themselves occupied proved an impossible task for the young mummy and her charge. Both teenagers were more used to participating in battles than being left on the sidelines and it caused them to pace and fidget in agitated anxiety. They were both, in their own way, still miffed at having to stay away from this, what was to be the last stand against Scarab.

Amanda had an easier time of it, having no desire to enter a war. She was worried for the others, yes, but felt no urge to follow and face whatever evil was awaiting them. Instead, she took it upon herself to ease the minds of the two young people.

Yet, attempting to draw them into conversation to divert their attentions from worry never lasted long.

Still, Presley had to give her credit for trying, even if some of that trying involved dredging up his more embarrassing baby stories. It entertained the expecting younger woman who proved unable to contain her giggles.

The reincarnated prince was mortified when his mother wistfully said she should have brought the pictures as well.

An hour passed slowly, an hour of tense pacing that drove his normally sweet mother to threaten on several occasions that she would tie them both down if they did not sit still.

_The guys should just be reaching Scarab's building_, he thought some minutes after his mother's last threat. _I should be with them… I will be with them, no matter what Jakal says._

A sudden plan entering his mind, Presley stood from where he had momentarily been slouched in a chair and headed quickly for the garage and the jet-cycle he knew was still there. It sat in the rear of the large room as if waiting for him.

True, he had only driven it once, and that had been with close supervision but he was certain he could handle it well enough to reach the pyramid. It would get him there much more quickly than his skateboard at least.

Nefertina had other ideas, stopping him just as he was crouched beside it trying to figure out how to crank the machine.

"You have to stay put, you know."

He turned to her, a look of determination on his face. "I can't just sit here doing nothing. This is the last fight! Scarab and me have a score to settle," he finished with a growl.

"And you think I don't?" The young woman said quietly. "I want to be there just as much as you… but I'm not letting you out of my sight. You _will_ be protected."

Debating what to do, Presley realized there was nothing he could say or do to dissuade her from keeping him here. She would, by force if necessary. Even if he did somehow manage to convince her to let him go, she would insist on going with him. Whatever argument she could make or whatever desire he had to join the battle, it was that thought that stopped him.

He would not drag his pregnant friend into a war zone to risk her getting hurt or killed. Remaining here was his only option for now.

"Fine," he said with a sigh. "How 'bout we watch some TV then?"

Nodding, she flashed him a grin and opened her mouth as if to speak. Loud rumbling drown out anything she might have said however as the wall behind him suddenly exploded inward, raining bits of mortar and bricks onto them.

The force of the blast pushed him forward, slamming into the startled charioteer as rubble pelted his back. His chin collided with her forehead as they fell in a sprawl of limbs.

_Ow._

"Presley! Nefertina!" Amanda's voice screamed from the corridor, the pounding rhythm of running feet rapidly nearing the doorway. Those footsteps abruptly halted just inside, less than fifteen feet from them. "Where are you? Are you alright?"

Body sore and probably bruised, the prince could only groan at first. It felt vaguely like his teeth had been knocked loose.

"Get off me, Presley, you weigh a ton."

Suddenly conscious that he was lying on top of her, Presley pushed himself up and off a coughing Nefertina. As he looked her over for injuries, he blurted the first thing he could think of.

"Yeah, well, you have the hardest head I've ever knocked into," he mumbled as he tested whether or not his teeth were actually loose. No, but his chin was definitely bruised. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she answered while sitting up, a hand rubbing her brow, "and speak for yourself. I bet I have your teeth marks imprinted on my forehead. Are you okay?"  
He nodded, raising his voice to answer his worried mother. "Mom, we're here, and we're fi- Hey!"

Someone grabbed him roughly, dragging him up into the air while barking order to the small army of shabties suddenly running in through the large hole where the wall once stood.

It was a voice that grew mocking and caustic as it was turned to his snarling guardian who called her armour and held her whip at the ready for a fight.

It was a voice both of them had hoped never to hear again.

Khalset had come for them.

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End chapter 16

Hope you liked this one, next up: showdown!


	17. The Pyramid

Old Gods

Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Only the original characters mentioned herein are mine, all others belong to DIC Entertainment.

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So far, nothing had happened, they had traversed several near identical, dull grey corridors without any confrontation whatsoever. It set Jakal's nerves on end, his sense of danger ringing loudly in his head. They should have run across a guard or shabti by now. He just wanted this over with so he could go home to Nefertina.

Could this be an ambush? Had Heka led them all into a trap? Had he been so stupid to fall for it?

"It's been too easy," he heard Moranhk mutter lowly. "Where are the guards?"

"His shabti are probably all in the upper floor with him," Heka said uncertainly, her gaze sweeping over their surroundings. "But you're right; we should have met some form of resistance by now. It's not like him to be so lax."

They took a service elevator to one of the floors below Scarab's supposed location. From this floor, there were two stairwells leading to the old man's rooms and it was decided to split up in order to surround him. While it would divide their strength, it would also split their enemy's focus if presented with two groups of targets rather than one.

Two floors above, they found no sign of Scarab, but his army of clay soldiers were waiting and they crashed upon the intruders as a wave upon the beach.

Never before had he seen so many in one place. The rooms he and his team entered were packed solid with them. Too solid it seemed, for when the mindless figures attacked, they ended up destroying themselves in the cramped space. The few remaining in once piece were easily dealt with, ultimately providing little hindrance to the warriors.

The rooms beyond proved more difficult. Shabties still teemed in every corner, but were less tightly packed and so were able to charge at Jakal's group when the three of them burst through the locked door.

Moranhk rushed into their midst, bringing the heavy blade of his sword down with mountain-hewing force while Jakal fired arrow after arrow into the stone sentinels. Rath was no less ferocious in his attacks, relying on his blade only when his spells would have harmed either himself or his comrades.

Piles of rubble and broken spears littered the ground when the dust of battle settled and there was no fully moving foe left in the room.

"Think we're close?" The large swordsman asked while casually kicking away a stone hand that grabbed at his ankle. It bounced off the wall and twitched convulsively, three fingers broken and crumbling.

"I hope so," Jakal answered, having to wade through the ankle-deep sea of shattered limbs and crushed bodies on his way towards the door to what was presumably the next room and whatever gauntlet lay in wait. "As much as I enjoy turning shabties into dust, we've been here too long for my liking."

He saw Rath nod out of the corner of his eye. "I agree. It's taken well over an hour to get this far into the building and still we've seen no trace of either Scarab or Khalset. Something feels… wrong here."

"Well, hopefully, it will be over soon," the giant of a man said in his quiet manner, "and we can get on with our lives." The two mummies shared a look before turning to look back at the third member of their party with amusement writ clearly in their eyes. They were met with a shrug. "You know what I mean."

Breaking down the door, taking a goodly chunk of wall with it, they were momentarily surprised to see nothing in their line of vision. No waiting army charged at them, but no Scarab or Khalset were there either.

The room they now walked warily into was possessed of a different feel than the rest of the building. Richly decorated rugs covered the dark marble floors, extravagant tapestries adorned the wall next to oil paintings and pieces of ancient relief sculptures, and there were statues and expensive furniture scattered about the expansive chamber as well.

It appeared as though they had finally entered the sorcerer's living quarters. Surely, they would come across the black hearted villain soon. Yet after a further fifteen minutes of wandering cautiously through the opulent floor brought only a reunion with the rest of their team.

"Through that door," were the first words from Heka's mouth as she looked to a plain, dead-bolted door. This doorway was so plain, in fact, as to look out of place amidst the extravagant grandeur they were currently surrounded by. "The entrance to Scarab's ritual room is through there."

"Then let's go," Zarg declared while reaching for the dull brass knob.

Before he could grasp it, both Jakal and Ikari reached out to stop him. Rushing headlong into what was apparently the heart of their enemy's lair would be tantamount to suicide. A better plan than a blind charge would be needed.

"Is this the only way in?"

Moranhk's question was puzzling. The Gods of War had spent many weeks as the old conjurer's lackeys; surely, they knew the layout of this building. When the archer spoke this thought aloud, he was met with head shaking by the three.

"We never entered this part of the pyramid," Ikari supplied, "it was always locked and Scarab forbid it. At the time, it was never questioned."

"You know this place, Heka," his gaze shifted to the golden serpent clutched in Ikari's strong hands, "is there anything you can tell us?"

She managed to give the appearance of a shrug with her brow. "Um… well, this is the only entrance, the room beyond holds a portal in the floor that actually leads down to where we need to go. And I hate to say this, but charging in is pretty much our only option."

Frowning, the hunter nodded. He was unhappy with the plan, believing it would put them all in unnecessary risk. Scarab undoubtedly knew of their presence by now and if he stood in wait beyond this narrow doorway, he could easily pick them off one at a time as they entered.

"Very well. But," he said while once more stopping Zarg from charging inside, "let's give ourselves a fighting chance. Rath, Ikari, think you can widen the entrance a bit?"

The wizard's gave nods, a grim smile of determination appearing on the elder's face as and readied his living staff while the younger swordsman motioned them aside. They did not go far, no more than ten feet away. From that distance, the archer had no difficulty hearing what was to be a low conversation taking place between the three magic-users.

"This won't bring the building down, will it?"

Heka looked uncertain, crimson eyes scanning the wall before her. "That's not a load bearing wall. It shouldn't…"

"But you're not sure?"

"…Not really."

Rath looked at the cobra, helm obscuring his expression, and muttered, "Wonderful."

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End chapter 17

Here's another chapter for ya'll. Just a few more and it'll all be over…

Thank you to all who's read this and all who've reviewed. Leave more, if you would, please.


	18. Confrontation

_Old Gods_

Chapter 18

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Mummies Alive!

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It was almost amusing, Heka thought, the way Scarab's violet eyes widened when the wall blew inward under Rath and Ikari's spells. The old sorcerer stood on the precipice to the ritual room staring open-mouthed for all of half-a-minute in utter shock.

Odd, but she would have figured him to exhibit less surprise at their entrance. He should have known about them, should have been expecting their arrival.

"How did you get past my shabties?" He all but bellowed, powering up his heavy, chitin armour as he spoke. "Khalset! Where-"

She knew the instant he became aware of her presence. His mouth dropped open as he fell silent, his eyes undoubtedly bulging in surprise behind his helm. He seemed at a loss for words, the shock he felt so strong, it made him stagger backwards.

His mouth closed, his throat moving as if to speak though no words came forth, opening and closing his mouth several times in mute alarm before snapping it shut. His lips thinned as fury began to overtake his start, eventually pulled back over his teeth in a feral snarl as he growled at her.

"How could you!" Voice erupting from him in a scream, the very air around Scarab began to spark and crackle with furious power. "You betrayed me, how could you!"

"There was nothing left to betray," she hissed with more coldness than she truly felt. His anger and hurt were fair swamping her senses and some part of her, the deepest part of her heart where she still loved him, tore at the sight of him so enraged.

The sorcerer stumbled over his next words in his fury. "I am your master, you backstabbing serpent! You serve me, no one else."

Her eyes narrowed as she wriggled from Ikari's slack grip and dropped to the floor. The guardians were remaining silent and watchful, even the small number of Shabti stood by as mute audience to this. It would be she and Scarab's last act in this comedy of errors they had created so long ago.

She transformed to her human form again without thought, feeling only the need to physically act on her speech. She ignored his look of dumbfounded shock.

"No," she said quietly, clenching her fists, fighting to control the tremor that threatened her voice, "_You_ are not my master. The man I lo- served is long dead; you are merely the twisted shell left behind."

He choked it sounded, too angry and too hurt to do anything else. Power rolled off his shaking form in seething waves of electricity as an orb of magic glowed in his hands. It was hurled at her, causing her and her companions to scatter.

Traitorous bitch!" Scarab's bellow could be heard even over the sound of breaking glass and lightning as the energy he unleashed struck the bank of windows on the far wall. Teeth bared, spittle flying, this was a man frighteningly enraged. "Shabties, kill them!"

A further two globes were thrown at her, one she dodged, the other striking her in the chest. The blast of pain sent her reeling back into her serpentine form. She lay stunned and groaning for many seconds as battle raged around her.

Someone scooped her limp form up. Opening her eyes, half-expecting it to be Scarab, Ikari's concerned face swam into sharp focus.

"I believe you made him mad," he quipped. "Are you okay?"

Gaze scouring the area, she nodded absently. "Where is he?"

"Below."

_Oh no,_ she thought, eyes widening in dread. "He's going to perform the spell… We have to stop him. Now." Yet no sooner had the two of them reached the edge of the portal than a new voice entered the fray.

"Thought I'd find you lot here," Khalset said in a tone that made her scales crawl in revulsion, "Imagine my surprise when I stopped by your place and found only these three."

At this, three figures where thrown to the ground by the nearby shabti. Only one was awake fully and she glared balefully at his back, her green eyes twin embers of hate. Presley and Nefertina, though appearing largely uninjured, were unconscious and sprawled where they fell.

Jakal, a fierce anger burning in his steel-blue eyes like a pyre, charged at the large warrior with a battle cry. Nearly all the others followed him closely. Only Ikari hesitated, torn between dealing with his brother-in-law and stopping Scarab.

"Go," Heka hissed in his ear, "help them. I will deal with my… 'master.'"

The sorcerer hesitated again only briefly before nodding and putting her down. He joined the fray just she dropped down the hole to face her former love.

&&&&

Short one, eh?

Thank you to everyone who will read this, a hug added to all those who review.


	19. Endings

_Old Gods_

Chapter 19

_How could she betray me like this! _Scarab fumed as he stormed across the narrow, large chamber to the protected area where he would soon meet his destiny. For a short moment, his millennia-long wish for immortality was overshadowed by the churning bile demanding vengeance that burned in his gut.

After everything the two of them had faced- after all they had seen- that the cobra could simply walk out on him… _The bitch._ He should have made certain the blast killed her before coming here.

But no matter, if it did not he could then watch the Dark take and rend her duplicitous form to nothing. She would be less than a greasy stain upon the floor when he finished.

Rage threatened to choke the chanted words in his throat, fury near blinded him to all as he stood before the small protective circle drawn on the floor surrounded by candles. Nevertheless, that rage would not stop him. He _would_ have his immortality and he _would_ make her pay for such treasonous acts.

Grey nothingness bloomed like a solid mist within the circle as his chanting grew in strength, coalescing into blackness darker than any mortal eyes had ever witnessed. It was the darksome force of Before, older than memory, older than Time, which hovered before him now in a writhing mass of shadow. The air around his gaunt frame grew cold, frigid, as a chill wind swirled in its strengthening fervour.

As the void stared back at him with burning eyes, fear clawed at the edges of his mind with its sharp talons. Yet he ruthlessly shoved it aside for his desire was great and his destiny too near to hand to turn coward now. Things were too far gone to stop even if he wished it.

Above him, the lights flickered and died and everything descended into shadow.

"I will not let you do this," Heka's hissed voice carried easily through the thick air to his ears. Her sudden presence fuelled his rage. "I _cannot_. This magic you do will kill this world!"

_Lies, _his mind screamed as he nearly growled at her. This magic will deliver the world directly into his hands. The Darkness would serve him… as she failed to do. He would rule in splendour forever.

Yet, at present, that dream seemed in no small amount of danger with his former servant hell-bent on stopping him. There were no shabti down here to stand in her way, none to protect him at his most vulnerable. He could not step away before the spell was complete, even if he wanted to.

_Damnation and hellfire_, he thought venomously. He was little more than a target for all he could move and he had few doubts the serpent would take full advantage of his weakness.

Therefore, it was with a mounting sense of dread that Scarab braced himself for her attack.

Terror slammed hard into Jakal's gut when he saw Khalset's captives thrown roughly to the ground. That they appeared largely uninjured caused only a small flutter of relief. It was quickly masked by the greater feelings of dread and fury.

Both Nefertina and Presley were unconscious, minor scratches and bruises marring their features, though there was no sign of grave injury on either. The prince's mother, though just as bruised, was awake and kneeling protectively over both young people.

Though it went against everything he once held it was his love's condition, not his prince's, which concerned him most. Was she as unharmed as she appeared? What of the baby?

He should have made certain that Khalset had truly died all those months ago, he thought angrily, should have made certain the arrow pierced his blackened heart. Remedying that mistake rode high in his mind as he charged, a cry of rage and battle slipping from his throat.

It was knowing that the capable Amanda hovered over the prince and his guardian that allowed the archer to lead a charge against their foe, his bow forgotten. It took less than a heartbeat for the two men to meet, an eye blink before the others joined them. When the remaining Shabti joined the fray, the battle became far more chaotic.

But his mind was not wholly on the matter at hand, was instead on whether or not Amanda could hold back an awake and fight-ready Nefertina, and a mighty backhanded swat by Khalset sent him flying across the room. His forceful impact with a wall caused it to buckle and momentarily knocked him senseless.

When he again regained those lost senses, it was to see the charioteer running towards him. She ignored Amanda's scream that she "get back here right now." The woman was too busy trying to hold her son back to make a grab for the quick younger woman.

"Are you all right?" She asked upon dropping to her knees beside him, her large grey eyes brimming with concern, anger, and… shame? Yet even as he wondered at the uncalled for emotion, she apologized for what she perceived as her wrongdoing. "I'm sorry for letting him get to Presley and Amanda. He took us by surprise, I didn't-"

She was silenced abruptly when he pushed her back an instant before Rath's wickedly curved scimitar embedded itself between them in the floor. It was still vibrating from its sudden halt when he found himself on the receiving end of a push that shoved both of them out of the way of the crumbling Shabti that landed near them.

Using their proximity, Jakal looked over her body for injuries and sighed in relief when she appeared to have none save a few small scratches and bruises. The battle still raging about them took his attention before he could think to ask after the baby.

Rath was pinned down by two Shabti but holding his own. A small horde of the stone men were gathered around Zarg and Ikari, dust puffing up like clouds as the mindless soldiers fell. The raging Khalset fought the grim-faced Armon and Moranhk.

The large warrior may have been a staggeringly strong force to be reckoned with, but so too were the powerhouses battering at him like a stone by the tide. Even so skilled as he was, he was tiring and proved little match against the combined skills of the two fighters.

It seemed odd for it to end so abruptly. Things happened quickly, Jakal would later recall, bits of clay flying through the air as Shabti crumbled, a sightless stone head rolling past his feet. Khalset fell.

"He's dead?" Nefertina asked in a hushed, disbelieving voice, her stunned eyes focused on the still form of her tyrannical father.

Jakal shook his head, getting to his feet with her beside him, "I don't know," he said aloud though he did hope. "Did he hurt you?" He asked suddenly, turning her to face him as the dust settled and presented a clearer view of her.

Clothing torn, bruises and scratches dotting her small frame, she looked worse than he first thought. But she smiled at him, a soft smile of reassurance. "I'm fine," she said as Presley and Amanda made their way to them.

"And the baby?"

Her smile grew, a hand going to her rounding middle, "Kicking."

It was the first he had heard of the baby moving and felt his eyes widen at the declaration, surprise flooding his mind. "Kicking?" At her nod, his own smile grew so that he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and whoop for joy.

Alas, a bellow and a scream from beneath their feet snapped the attention of all to the task at hand. Scarab was still to be dealt with before they could celebrate.

Upon descending to the summoning chamber the group found only the Human form of Heka still living. She knelt in a circle of black soot holding the lifeless body of her former master as sobs wracked her grieving body. There was not a single mark on either of them and nothing seemed out of place in the room. In fact, save for the soot surrounding the ancient sorcerer's body there was not a single sign of battle.

"What happened?" Presley asked into the ensuing silence, looking disturbed at the sight of his dead nemesis. "Is he really…" The boy swallowed, clearly unable to finish. He had never seen death so closely, and Scarab's pale dried-out corpse appeared nightmarish to him.

Heka sniffed tearfully, looking at them but not relinquishing her hold on the body. "Y-yes," she cleared her throat when her voice came as little more than a choked whisper. "Yes, he is dead. The darkness was too much… and didn't want to serve him. It took what life was left in him and returned to the void…"

_It's over?_ The thought came to them all, unable to believe their millennia long war was finished at long last. In deference to Heka's grief, none of them showed the relief or joy that bubbled beneath the surface.

Another shock came to them, unnoticed at first until it was realized that the old warriors were beginning to fade.

"The magic that brought us here is ended. The spell Scarab used must have ended when he died," Ikari said quietly in answer to the questions hurled from all. "Don't cry, little one," he said, pulling his niece into a final embrace, "this isn't our time. We belong beyond the Gate, and will see you all again one day. This isn't a good-bye." He kissed her forehead one last time, tears standing in his grey eyes before releasing her.

The farewells- although Ikari kept saying they were not really farewells- from the others were just as tearful. Zarg and Moranhk both kissing her cheek and hugging her tightly before sharing last words with the saddened guardians.

"You know, Zarg's a good name for a child," Zarg said with a watery grin just before the Gods of War faded from the living world.

End.

Thank you to everyone who has ever read or reviewed and to everyone who ever will. You've made this worthwhile.

It's been a long, strange, and rather frustrating trip, hasn't it? Only the epilogue is left to be written but the story is essentially over now… and I'm saddened greatly. And also glad, oddly enough.


	20. Epilogue

_Old Gods_

_Epilogue_

Well, here it is, and here we are, the end of the story. I'm sorry it's taken so long to come out with this little chapter but it was hard to get down and some part of me didn't want it to end. I hope it meets with your expectations. Moreover, thanks so much to everyone who's read this and to everyone who's also taken the time to review, it's made it all worthwhile. Thanks ya'll!

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The dog days of summer held the city in its uncomfortable thrall. August had turned its sweltering eye over them, making the air waver and dance above the heated ground even on this cloud-choked night, with the current downpour only adding to the already high humidity and general heat-induced misery. For a heavily gravid woman in her last month of pregnancy, it was an especially horrible time of season. Even so late at night as it now was, when the heat of day should have dissipated somewhat in the dark, it was wholly unpleasant and caused much-needed sleep impossible to find.

Rolling to her side ponderously in the large bed-- she had outgrown her sarcophagus early in her fifth month-- in a vain search of a more comfortable position and decided once again that she was quite tired of being pregnant. These past weeks had seemed as if her body was no longer her own, instead belonging to the squirming, kicking little body in her womb. It also seemed as though the baby only stilled when she was awake and was a ball of energy whenever she chose to lie down.

Nefertina became convinced it was planned this way; Rath's theory was that the child was merely taking after its mother. It had earned him a smack to the arm and a scowl.

At least we've finished moving, she thought with a sigh of disgruntlement as she once more tried to find a position in which she could go to sleep. Again, it proved in vain.

The move from the Sphinx had been a month-long nightmare that had taken up the end of May and most of June once they found a place near both the museum and Presley's home that could comfortable house five adults-- Heka chose to remain with them-- and at least one child. As well as the various bits and bobs Rath refused to leave behind. She never realized until then the wizard was such a pack rat.

Finally giving up on sleep after so many hours of restless turning, the charioteer pushed herself cumbrously from the well-rumpled coverlet of the bed and meandered wearily to the living room with a last wistful look to the gilt and wood sarcophagi lying side by side in the bedroom she and Jakal shared. She rather wished he was awake also, if only so she had someone to talk or cuddle with, but was not about to force him awake just because she could not sleep and knew he needed rest just as badly as she .

Poor dear was growing rather frantic with the birth looming ever closer and had confessed to losing patience in waiting for their child to make his or her appearance not two days previous. He had missed the birth of his first child those many centuries ago due to his heavy duties for the court and was determined to witness this one.

It was sweet. Even though he was beginning to drive her crazy with his hovering.

Waddling down the darkened hallway, she found she did not mind the quiet of the hour as much as she first thought. Enjoying the relative silence, it came as something of a surprise to feel the sudden gush of warm liquid from between her thighs. Surely she had not wet herself, had she? It seemed absurd, for as insistent as her bladder had lately become, she had never lost control of it.

The contraction that hit her next, though not as mind numbingly painful as she was led to expect, caught her wholly off-guard. She had read several books and seen many videos on childbirth in preparation for what would be a home delivery. The reality of the situation effectively made her mind go blank on what to do.

She was in labour.

_I'm going to have a baby,_ she thought dazedly while blinking down at her swollen belly.

"Yes, you are," said a gentle, purring voice as Bastet popped into sudden existence before her with a toothy grin, "possibly right here in the hall if we don't move you somewhere ore appropriate… Bes," she turned to the imp-like trickster who had before gone unnoticed, "wake the others and bring the little prince and his mother here. They won't want to miss this, I'm sure."

In a quieter and more motherly tone than any Nefertina had heard from her in this time, the goddess turned back to the wide-eyed charioteer, "Come along, dear," and proceeded to lead her back to her room, all the while chattering. "Heqet would have been here as well, but she volunteered to stay behind and keep the horde that is your family informed of things."

"Uh…" was as intelligent a response as her stunned mind could form while being ushered back to her and Jakal's room. The contractions were doing little to help gain her bearings. "Um… family? I don't- What do you mean? Why are you here?"

Bastet chuckled, moving to the falcon-headed sarcophagus and giving it a succession of sharp raps to wake its occupant. "I'm not just love and sex, hon. Childbirth is firmly part of my being and as you're pretty much the last of my old-time worshippers," this last was said with a noticeable grumble, "and as I _am_ your patron, I felt a personal appearance was in order. As for your family…" her mouth curled into an exasperated grin, "they've been pestering me for months about you and that little bundle you're carrying."

By now, Jakal had blearily stumbled from his bed with what must undoubtedly be half-expectations of an attack. Nefertina felt the absurd urge to giggle at the confusion that danced across his sleepy features as he forced himself awake but knew it would not be appreciated.

Besides, another contraction was seizing her and those were _not_ laughing matters. It was also a thing her beloved noticed in the midst of directing a question towards her patron. He was by her side in an instant, sleep lifted from his countenance more quickly than she would have believed possible.

"What's wrong?"

"You've never seen a woman in labour before?" Bastet said after rolling her eyes and huffing a sigh.

"She's in labour?" His head turned from the goddess to her, eyes wide. "You're in labour?"

At the excitement, anxiety and breathless worry of his voice, the charioteer laughed aloud. She was not certain why she suddenly found it funny, but she had needed to laugh. Yet it only lasted until another, stronger contraction turned it into a harsh exhalation of breath.

"I'd certainly say so," she quipped once the spasm passed, earning a scowl from him for her levity. The goddess merely chuckled.

Bastet continued to chuckle when the scribe and warrior came rushing into the small bedroom, both demanding to know what was going on and why Bes was wandering through their home. When they caught sight of her, they asked the same again. Upon noticing their labouring teammate, a look of comprehension crossed Rath's thin features.

_Well, at least one of them remembers my job description,_ she thought with a mental huff. Granted, her own worshipper did not remember at first, but giving birth was an agonizing and stressful occurrence and could be forgiven.

Bes returned not long after with the sleepy and grumbling prince and his equally half-asleep mother and things began to speed up a bit. As her impish assistant danced around the room chanting his protective charms, most of the room's occupants retreated to the hall or wherever they would wait, having little desire to witness the birth itself.

Instructing Jakal to walk the mother-to-be around the room to aid in the dilation of her cervix-- he was currently too worried to do anything but comply-- the goddess slipped into the bathroom to gather up towels and damp cloths. She was rather put out there was no swaddling anywhere in the rooms; there was no cradle either as far as she could see. She was informed everything was kept in the nursery across the hall when she asked.

The hunter shot her an easily readable look when she commented that things were going well as he obviously thought otherwise. The girl was in the midst of another contraction and had gripped his hand hard enough to make him grit his teeth. She smirked at the look with the thought of, _typical man,_ shining in her eyes.

Aloud, though, she said, "Let's see how far along you are, dear," in a gentle tone and lay the young woman on the bed to examine her. "Hmm, we've an impatient one here; you're ready." She kept the surprise out of her voice at the swiftness with which the birth was progressing-- it had only been a few hours since she showed up-- and silently helped Nefertina back up to her feet.

"Wait, I thought I was supposed to do this laying down…" she said in a breathless, cracking voice as her grey eyes flicked nervously from Bastet to the bed and back. She looked to Jakal as well and though he smiled supportively at her, it seemed rather weaker than normal.

The goddess noticed the father-to-be, despite all his stoicism and level-headedness, looked wane and a tad paler than usual. And no matter how amusing it would be, she rather hoped he did not faint.

But to the her charge's words, "If you'd prefer to do it that way, you can," she answered, "but I've found that the more upright you are, the faster and less painful the whole ordeal is."

Little more than that was needed and she was quite pleased when Nefertina followed her advice.

With Bes continuing his dancing chants, Bastet and Jakal helped the labouring charioteer into position. The birth itself was uncomplicated and as textbook as any the goddess of birth had ever witnessed. The young woman cried out during the worst of the contractions, cursing her lover at some points, and tearfully telling how much she loved him at others. It was all perfectly normal behaviour and she held up very well throughout.

As for Jakal, he was supportive, murmuring all the usual platitudes and comments an expectant father did, but appeared rather shell-shocked. He did not faint, at least.

Dawn came and bled it ruby brilliance across the cloud-choked sky when the high, thin wail of a newly born infant broke the summer morning. Such a sight always made her heart swell and gave the lovely illusion that all was right with the world.

Afterwards, as the feline goddess and her impish companion cleansed the area and sealed their protections, the grinning new mother and father gazed upon the sleeping form of their daughter.

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Fin.

Bastet is the goddess of love, sex, fertility, childbirth, and a few other things I can't remember off the top of my head so it made sense to have her in the role of midwife.

Bes, while also being the trickster he portrayed in the show, is also the protector of pregnant women. His role, or a priest dressed as him, during the birth was to dance around the mother and chant spells.

Heqet is a frog-headed creation goddess who became the protector of unborn children.

I hope I got all that right… and I hoped ya'll liked it. Thanks again for reading.


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